


Appearances Can Be Deceiving In More Ways Than One

by AlmostSuperWhoFan, Lopsided_Whiskey_Grin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accountant Castiel, Alternate Universe - Real World, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Barebacking, Bathtub Sex, Blow Jobs in a Car, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean Winchester, Dom/sub, Drunk Castiel, Drunken Kissing, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, Felching, Halloween Costumes, Homophobia, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Mention of Possible Past Abuse, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POV Third Person Omniscient, Panic Attacks, Power Bottom Castiel, Rimming, Top Dean, Trust Issues, halloween party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-21 00:06:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 68,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2448065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmostSuperWhoFan/pseuds/AlmostSuperWhoFan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lopsided_Whiskey_Grin/pseuds/Lopsided_Whiskey_Grin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An angel and a devil walk into a bar. No, seriously, Castiel Novak finds himself at a Halloween Party, the devil in one half of an angel/devil couple's costume. When he literally runs into his counterpart - a snarky, skirt-wearing, feathered stranger named Dean Winchester - the night turns really hot really fast.</p>
<p>But as what starts out as a one night stand grows into something deeper than just a fling, they'll learn how to truly rely on one another through the ups and downs the holiday season tries to throw their way. </p>
<p>Their incredible journey will be riddled with passion and angst, misunderstandings and acceptance, but through it all Dean and Cas will come to find that first impressions aren't everything and appearances can be deceiving, especially for a fallen angel and his devil in disguise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first collaboration effort between me and AlmostSuperWhoFan and we had a lot of fun working on it together! Please enjoy! ^_^

Cas looked around the Halloween party, tugging nervously at the hem of his dark red devil costume before readjusting the plastic horns on his head. Music was thumping loudly as scanned the crowd, searching for Meg, who had invited him, but whom he could see nowhere.

He felt the horns slipping again as he stepped further into the party. The music thumped a bit louder than he’d like but the song was familiar. He liked it. He mingled onto the dance floor as he kept looking for Meg. Cas felt the beat creep into his step and began to bounce as he walked. He felt cool. He felt enchanted. He felt choked. Someone had stepped on his cape.

Cas turned abruptly, embarrassment and an uncharacteristic anger flushing through him in a hot rush. Was it that hard to see someone right in front of you? He pushed a lock of hair up off his forehead in a huff as he turned, ready to lay down a very loud complaint to whoever had nearly ripped his costume.

But Cas was met by a mouthful of feathers. How had he missed the huge pair of angel wings on his first pass? They bounced up and down to the beat of the music and were practically molting from the effort. Taller than him, the dancing wearer took another step backwards with the beat and swung his arms over his head. “Yeah!!” erupted from the would-be angel

Cas tugged his cape out from under the rowdy man’s feet roughly, still feeling slightly angry at being stood up by Meg in a place where he knew absolutely no one. He tugged a little too roughly though and nearly pulled the angel off his feet.

One second Dean was rocking to his favorite song. The heavy beat thumping through his skin made him throw his hands up and yell. The next second he was falling forward, his feet pulled out from under him. “What the…” He turned, pissed. Sure he was wearing an angel costume. Sure it was a short skirt. Dammit, he needed to think through his bets with Sammy. But that did not excuse an asshole. He clenched his fists and turned to let that asshole have a go.

Cas was met with a flurry of feathers as he turned to face the person behind him and felt his anger dissolve almost immediately, replaced just as quickly with a stunned amusement at the sight that met him. A man slightly taller than Cas looked down at him with a palpable sort of rage, green eyes glinting dangerously in the low light- something that normally would have made Cas shrink back into the crowd and run-but he found he couldn’t, not with how soft the man’s lips looked even as they pulled back from his teeth in a slight snarl, not with how he was wearing the complimentary costume to Cas’ with the revealing hem of his skirt inching higher and higher on his thigh. That made Cas’ thoughts stall out abruptly though and he dragged his wide eyes up to the taller man’s face. He was wearing a skirt? Wait... and the halter top? Did Meg hand her costume over?

Although he assumed laughing would be a bad idea, curiosity got the better of him and Castiel blurted his question. “Why are you wearing a ladies angel costume?” His head tilted to the right as he watched the man’s face flutter through a series of expressions. Startled. Confused. Angry. Confused. Accepting.

“I lost a bet, asshat.” Dean retorted. “What’s it to you?” The devil trying to figure him out had the most amazing blue eyes he’d ever seen. He crossed his muscled arms over his chest, adjusted his halo and smirked. “You got a problem with angels there, Satan?” Dean’s eyes were twinkling, he just knew it.

Cas shifted on his feet, glancing down to hide the grin trying to curve at his mouth. “No problem at all,” he replied, gaining some composure and looking back up at the angel in front of him. “Can I just ask why you would take a bet when there was a chance that you’d be wearing that?” Cas raked his eyes over the angel again, taking in the short skirt that left little to the imagination, and swallowed against a suddenly dry throat, “You must have thought the odds were going to be in your favor.”

Dean’s arms dropped to his sides and he looked himself over one more time. OK, so it was a really short skirt. And the fluff along the hem was just drawing the attention down to his nearly exposed crotch and slightly bowed legs. Hell, even the halter was outrageously floofy. He felt a chuckle rumble through him as spread his arms in mock surrender. “Yeah well, my kid brother got lucky. But don’t worry, this is just payback,” and he smiled mischievously. “Sammy had to take our grandma’s 90 year old best friend to a charity ball when he lost rock-paper-scissors to me. Not sure how that happened but she was all grabby if you know what I mean.” He waggled his eyebrows and threw an arm over Castiel’s shoulders. With ease, he tugged him away from the floor and towards the bar. “Besides, I know I’m adorable and way prettier than any chick here, devil boy.”

Cas blushed and ducked his head down, allowing himself to be lead to the bar by the handsome angel. The irony of their costumes was not lost on him by any stretch; he had always been timid and straight-laced, very rarely ever breaking the rules, only wearing this devil costume because Meg had pestered him into it. And here was the devil in disguise, leading him right up to the bar. Cas felt his stomach twist uneasily when the man handed him a double shot of whiskey. Cas and alcohol did not mix well; he always got overly affectionate and touchy even after only a couple drinks. He paused with the glass near his lips, wondering if he should tell the man or just turn and leave the party before he embarrassed himself.

Dean tossed his head back and gulped his shot. He leaned back a bit and bumped into a zombie behind him who just laughed and leaned heavier into the sexy vampiress with him. Dean smacked the shot glass down onto the counter and asked for another round. That was when he noticed the devil hesitate.

“Not a drinker? I’m sorry. I just assumed…” He felt bad for pushing him without really asking and turned to the bartender to cancel the shots.

CLONK! He whipped his head around to see those blue eyes shining triumphantly at him.  
Meg had told Cas time and again that he needed to live a little. _Well_ , he thought, _let’s live a little_. “I’m good,” Cas growled out, his horns slipping down towards his face again. “Let’s have another.”

Dean stared at the man, his mouth slightly agape before it curved into a wicked grin. It looked like the night wasn’t going to be as bad as he had originally thought, with having to wear the skirt and all. The blue-eyed devil standing before him had surprised him, to say the least, and continued to surprise him with the way he had knocked the shot back so cleanly. Well, almost cleanly- a couple drops of whiskey gleamed at the man’s bottom lip and Dean brought his hand up, brushing the moisture away with the pad of his thumb before he even realized he was doing it. Dean felt a blush race across his cheeks when he caught himself. Three shots in now. He should learn his drinking partner’s name.

He coughed and stuck his hand out, “Dean Winchester.”

Castiel looked at Dean’s hand and tipped his head to the side again as if confused. He looked up into Dean’s eyes, _such a beautiful green_ , he thought, and took a quick step into Dean’s space. “Castiel,” he mumbled. “Your eyes are so green.”

He tilted his head back to look up into Dean's face. He was almost chest to chest with him. More like velvet vest to halter top but too close just the same. Maybe not close enough. He could see freckles peppered across his cheeks and nose. He raised a hand to touch one but found he was rocking back on drunken heels. He was tipping backwards now and a giggle jumped into his throat. He let it spill out as he rocked forward into Dean’s arms.

Dean took a quick glance at the other guests around them before he gave in to the red-dressed temptation swaying against him. _Kiss him_ , his mind whispered.

Cas clutched at Dean’s bare shoulders as he fell forward, feeling the steely muscles bunch under his hands. He chuckled breathlessly but made no real move to push away. How many shots had he had already? He wriggled a little closer. Did it really matter how many he’d had? He thought not, not when the liquor made him feel this carefree and relaxed, like he could just do what he wanted and damn the consequences. He looked up at Dean, at those incredible green eyes, still feeling the tingle from the brief touch the other man had glanced across his bottom lip and felt his breath catch in his chest at the way those eyes suddenly became darker and more heated. Cas wasted no time in slipping his arms around Dean’s neck, tugging him down for a kiss. Damn the consequences.

Dean felt himself tighten when Castiel stepped into his space. Now that he was tugging his face down, his whole body suddenly felt like a coil wound too tight. He let out a slight grunt, wrapped his arms around Cas’ waist and crashing him against his body for the kiss. Those blue eyes closed and Cas let out a soft sigh when Dean’s tongue brushed against his lips, asking. Suddenly, each felt the rush of need as lips parted and tongues touched and everything around them fell away.

The heavy press of the taller man’s body against Cas brought a heady wave of arousal crashing down onto him, stealing his breath and weakening his knees. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been affected so strongly. His hands found Dean’s hair, fingers tangling in the short strands as he continued to draw in deep, fevered tastes of his mouth. Cas pressed his body even closer against Dean’s, pushing them back up against the bar behind him, causing the bottles on the top to jump and rattle. Dean groaned and Cas swallowed up the sound greedily, lost in the scent and taste.  
But for as caught up in each other as they were, Cas still heard when someone shouted good-naturedly “Get a room!”

Dean chuckled when he came up for breath. “Shut your cakehole!” he called back to the air.

Even as he spoke, he slipped his hands under the red cape and ran his fingers along the waistband of Cas’ red slacks. With groping hands hidden now, he pulled Cas’ hips and ground one hard member against the other. He watched blue eyes roll back and grinned with satisfaction. He brought his lips to Castiel’s ear, “Does that sound like a good idea, Cas?”

Cas could only nod his assent. The warm hands at his back, the solid erection pressing insistently into his thigh, the hot breath washing against his ear, all of it seemed to cloud his already alcohol-addled brain, making it hard to form a complete sentence.

"Y- yes,’" he finally managed to stutter, rolling his hips forward slightly, seeking more friction for his hardening cock.

"Awesome!" chirped Dean to Cas' agreement.

He gripped Castiel’s ass and swirled his hips once more in anticipation of pleasure to come. But, if they were going to make to the door, he would have to slow down. He felt an odd warmth bloom in his chest when he looked over the devil’s face. Those beautiful eyes were half closed and a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth. Dean brought his hands up to cup that face and slide a softer kiss on his parted lips. He then gently pushed Cas away and smacked cash on the bar.

 _Where was he even hiding that?_  Cas wondered.

“Let’s do this!” Dean crowed and tugged Cas back into the crowd.

Cas laughed softly to himself. For a man in a skirt, Dean Winchester sure had a macho walk. Cas tripped on the way out of the party. It was the funniest thing ever as now he couldn’t stop laughing. Dean pressed him back again his Impala to steal more kisses but found himself laughing too.

“Do this often, bub?” Dean chuckled.

“Not…at…all,” Cas replied between giggles.  
  
Dean sobered up immediately and took a step back. “What?”

“Meg says that I should loosen up and that I’m all manner of hot,” Cas tossed up air quotes around the hot, “when I’m bad. But I’m never bad.” He was rambling now about duty and family honor and then doubled over laughing.

Dean expected irritation to creep under his skin but it didn’t. It wasn’t quite guilt either. Suddenly Dean wanted to protect Cas. He pressed against him again but this time with less force. “I know a great burger joint around the corner from here. Let’s eat.”

Cas tilted his head and that confused look crossed his face again. _Adorable_ , Dean thought. _Adorable_.

“But what happened to hotel?” Cas sounded hurt. Did he just mess up his impromptu date? What could he have done wrong?

Dean leaned down to kiss him sucking on his bottom lip before opening the passenger door. “We will,” he promised. “Just want you to be sure first.”

Cas watched Dean jog around the front of his sleek black car, still feeling a bit dazed and more than a little buzzed and not entirely sure he hadn’t messed up this whole thing with the man in the skimpy angel outfit. He wanted Cas to be sure? Cas thought he had made it pretty clear that he was _more_ than sure. He opened the car door after two fumbling tries at Dean’s questioning look over the roof of the car, still uncertain what he might have done to make Dean want to stop when Cas had made it so clear he wanted to take it all the way. Cas slid down onto the supple leather of the passenger seat, confused, more than a little drunk, and, now, half-hard.

Dean hopped into the driver’s seat then hopped back out. Cas could hear him swearing quietly as he wrestled to remove his wings and tossed them into the backseat. Once behind the wheel again, Dean glanced over at Castiel and sighed. The poor man’s face had fallen and he looked like a kicked puppy. Dean smirked again. Despite Cas’ protests, he reached for the devil horns and chucked then into the backseat as well, replacing them with his halo. “I think you are way more angel than I am. You’d look great in this skirt.” He graced Cas with his most charming smile hoping for a smile in return.

“Dean,” Cas began. “Did I say something…?”

“I hear sex is way better on a full stomach,” Dean interrupted. “Gonna need all your strength.” Dean waggled his eyebrows and then started the car.

With a definite roar, the car sprung to life and moved out if its parking space. When on the road, Dean reached over to grab Cas’ hand. He swiped his wet tongue over the other’s wrist and then settled it against his own thigh. He wanted to slow down but definitely not stop.

The feel of Dean's tongue dragging across his skin sent a shiver down Cas' spine and he shuddered. He looked over at Dean in the driver's seat, seeing the determination darkening the green of his eyes, even in the low light, and finally understood what the other man was getting at. He relaxed back into his seat, his fingers beginning to trace slow lazy circles against the skin of Dean's thigh, just under the hem of his skirt.  
''I think _you_ definitely wear it better," he muttered huskily.

Dean let a groan escape him as Cas' hand crept further under his skirt. _Slow it down there, Tiger_ he reminded himself again for the thousandth time and was both grateful and disappointed when he pulled into the lot at Harvelle's. He had been completely serious when he told Cas that he wanted him to be completely sure of what he was getting himself into when he agreed to be taken home by Dean Winchester. Dean just hoped that when Cas sobered up enough to make that choice that the irresistible man in the passenger seat of his car would still choose him.

He parked in a spot close to entrance of the sports bar and jumped out of the driver's seat with a unfamiliar feeling of apprehension clenching at his heart. He waited for Cas to climb out of his baby before kissing him again with a firm and insistent press of their lips, an unspoken reminder that Dean was still interested, ferociously so.

Cas looked up at him, wonder plain on his face, his lips parting on an exhale, looking more approachable and delicious than ever before. And before Dean could abandon all those ideas of slowing down and just push Cas into the backseat of his car and take him then and there, he grabbed him by the hand and practically dragged him into the sports bar behind them.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean stumbled slightly unsteadily as he stepped through the door to Harvelle's with Cas under his arm and was instantly bombarded with questions from all sides of the darkly lit, familiar space.

"Dean Winchester!" cried the woman behind the bar. "I should take you over my knee."

"What are you wearing, boy?" came the question from the gruff looking man standing in the kitchen doorway.

"You lost didn't you?" giggled a pretty blonde waitress.

Dean just rolled his eyes, though he couldn't help the smile that began to curve his mouth. His family could be more than a handful, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

"I guess you’re a regular," Cas chuckled heartily and started to tip sideways.

Dean grabbed him and pulled him close. "Hey, this getup got me a hot date," he proclaimed, nodding to the rumpled devil next to him.

Cas smiled a little sloppily, leaning closer against Dean as he led him toward a booth in a darkened corner of the bar. He giggled helplessly as he clutched onto the thin fabric of Dean's halter top, doing his best to keep himself upright. He blinked his bleary eyes, looking around the bar as he stumbled next to Dean.

''This seems like a nice place!'' he proclaimed brightly. It had a warm, inviting atmosphere and Cas felt instantly at ease.  

"Best burgers in town," Dean said and dropped himself in the booth across from Cas.

The young waitress, Jo her name tag read, rushed over immediately and peppered them with questions."Who's your friend, Dean? Did you really wear that to the party tonight? Wait, I'm gonna snap a pic!" Jo declared and dug in her apron for her phone. She snapped a picture before either man could protest. "It's not every day the devil and an angel share a booth," she chuckled. "So what can I get ya? The usual, Dean?"

Dean glanced over at Cas, seeing how he swayed slightly in his seat and looked back to Jo. “Yeah, the usual. And make it two,” he said, hoping the greasy food might help soften the blow of the liquor for Cas somewhat. He hadn't meant for him to get so shit-faced and now he was starting to feel a little like an ass. “You gonna be okay there, buddy?”

"Should I bring sodas instead of beers, Dean?" Jo suggested, taking a few steps towards the kitchen. When Dean nodded his approval, Jo walked away to get their burger orders in.

"I'm a lightweight," admitted Cas. He swayed a bit in his seat but suddenly leaned forward conspiratorially. "I used to drink my brothers under the table," he whispered, loudly. "But now I can barely manage a wine cooler." He made a shushing motion with his finger and sat straight again.

_My god_ , Dean thought, _he's so freakin' cute_!  Dean leaned in too, a wide smile curving his mouth. "So what changed?" he asked, "Just couldn't keep up with your brothers anymore?" He was genuinely intrigued by the man across from him and wanted to know everything he could about him- something he rarely, if ever, did with the people he brought home. It was so different with Cas though, and it scared him a little.

Castiel leaned forward again, this time his nose just inches from Dean's. "I was gonna be a priest," he tried whispering again. "I wasn't very good at it."

He made the shushing motion again when Dean sat back in the booth. The laugh billowing out of the would-be angel caught the attention of the other patrons. Cas tried to keep a stern face, but it quickly gave way to a lopsided grin. There was no denying Dean's laugh was infectious. With his head thrown back as he chuckled, the long line of his throat practically demanding the press of Cas' mouth. Cas instead licked his lips and leaned forward again.

"Why is that funny?" he asked in a loud, slightly slurred whisper.

Dean tossed his arm over the back of the booth as his laughter died away and took in Cas one more time. His dark, messy hair was split by the borrowed halo. His bright blue eyes, slightly glazed, squinted suspiciously at him.

"You," Dean said with a smile. "Here I thought you were too good for me and now I hear you're a rogue priest. I mean padres don't usually make out with strange men they just met." Dean's eyes traced those full lips, letting the memory of their taste warm his groin again. "Your friend is right - when you're bad, you're all manner of hot."

Cas blushed and ducked his head momentarily before looking back up. "Y- you're the first person that I've ever done that with," he said timidly. "I mean the first person that I made out with when I only just met them."

_Let's keep it that way_ , Dean thought and mentally paused. _Possessive already? What the hell?_   he asked himself. He cleared his throat. "Then I'm one lucky guy," Dean replied. His voice seemed to drop a bit; the few words came out almost husky.

He wondered what other firsts Cas may be hiding up those red sleeves. Dean opened his mouth to speak again but the arrival of their drinks cut him short. Jo slid their straws on the table but rushed away to clean a spilled drink. He watched Cas forgo the straw and drink directly from the cup. He watched him run his tongue from one corner of his lips, around and back again. He watched him smack his lips at the crisp flavor of the cola. Dammit! Did he just do that on purpose?

Cas dragged the back of his hand across his mouth, bringing his eyes up to Dean's. “I'm the lucky one," he said, more to himself than anything.

The man sitting across from him was so incredibly approachable and easy to talk to. And the fact that he had brought him here for some food and a moment to slow down was only more evidence to just how lucky Cas really was. How many guys would have just taken advantage of the fact that he was stumbling drunk? He shook his head lightly taking another drink of his soda and eyeing Dean over the rim of the cup. He had already begun to feel his heavy buzz begin to fade and was happy to know his was going to be going into this with a clear head.

Dean leaned across the table again and gestured for Cas to follow suit. "Let's get you fed and then we both can really get lucky," he said in a raspy whisper and waggled his eyebrows again.

A blush crept across Castiel's face and he giggled. Dean suddenly realized that he liked to make this odd man laugh. It sounded like a breathy sort of thunder that reverberated through to his own chest.

Cas smiled broadly. "Indeed," he agreed.

He reached his hand out impulsively and ran his fingers over the bridge of Dean's nose then across those pink lips and was rewarded with a warm sigh across his fingers. _The food really needs to hurry_ , Cas thought with a rush of arousal and quickly drew his hand away.

"Okay," he started, trying to distract himself with conversation. "You know I'm a defunct priest. What does an angel in a miniskirt do in real life?"

Dean swallowed against a suddenly dry throat from the touch Cas had feathered across his lips. He shifted a little in the booth seat, feeling his jeans become tighter. _God, when were those damn burgers coming?_ He cleared his throat but remained leaning in close.

“I'll let you in on a little secret: I don't wear the skirt all the time," he chuckled in a low whisper. "It's not exactly a good choice of apparel for someone who works in a mechanics shop for a living"

The image of Dean filthy with oil and grease and bent over a car flashed in Cas' mind. _Sexy, sweet, AND blue collar? I really hit the jackpot_ , Cas thought, with an unfamiliar excitement warming his chest. Amazingly, the more his buzz eased away the better he felt about this sudden match. Was fate a real thing?

Dean could see wheels turning in Cas' head after he told him what he did for a living. How many times had he seen those same wheels turning in the heads of soccer moms and business women at the shop? There was a fantasy playing out in that man's head and Dean would be damned if he said he wasn't a little curious to know what exactly that fantasy was.

Cas swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly, and he glanced away from Dean with another blush.  "Guess you are really good with your hands then," he remarked.

"You'll find out soon enough," Dean flirted back with an easy smile.

And with that, the burgers finally arrived.

Cas dug into his food, originally only wanting to eat as quickly as possible to get out of the bar and into Dean's bed, but the smell and delicious taste of the meal before him had him slowing down and savoring each bite. He swallowed down a big mouthful, his mind still supplying that image of Dean, dirty and disheveled and panting as he took Cas over the hood of the beautiful black car out front.

“So you said you have a brother?" Cas asked hoarsely, trying to take his mind off of the sweltering image his mind had just helpfully supplied. "Do you have any other siblings?"

"Bobby makes a damn good burger," Dean declared his admiration. He glanced over at Cas who seemed about to choke before asking about family. "Um, yeah," Dean started and slid Cas' drink closer to him. "Have a half brother. Folks are gone now but Ellen and Bobby more than make up." He gestured towards to bar where Ellen was wiping up after a customer.

He tore off another chunk of his own burger and watched the Adam's apple bob in Castiel's throat as he swallowed his bite. The man was enjoying each sampling as if it was his last. He moaned a bit as he took another bite and closed his eyes as he chewed.

_Is that what it'll look like?_  Dean asked himself, imagining that same mouth partaking of his cock and swallowing him down. Then it was his turn to choke.

He coughed out, "Tell me about your brothers," with a strained voice.

Cas took a sip from his drink, considering Dean before he answered. "I'm one of many," he said after a moment, being purposefully vague.

He didn't exactly like talking about his family all that much, not after the falling out he had with them when he had told them he wasn't going to be a priest anymore. They didn't approve of his choice even though he had been so adamant that the choices he made were his own and were for his betterment. It just wasn't who he was anymore and they couldn't seem to understand that. Cas considered himself very lucky that he had found a friend in Meg, even though they were nearly polar opposites. She understood him in a way few people really did, including his own family.

He looked down to his burger and took another bite. "This is one of the best burgers I've ever had," he said around the food in his mouth, attempting to change the subject nonchalantly. "My compliments to the chef."

Dean’s brows knit together as he watched Cas completely dodge his question. So family was a sore subject. He should have figured with the way Cas carried on outside of the party. That protective warmth crept into his chest again and he clenched his jaw. He’d let it go for now but if they were going to move ahead together, he’d want to know the deal.

Wait… did he just think about them in long-term terms? Dean shook his head and plastered a smile on his face.

“Told ya,” he offered instead.

Cas was grateful that Dean didn’t push the issue. He’d rather think about those strong arms wrapped around him and those soft lips pressed to his skin. Without realizing it, Dean offered a wonderful night of escape and Cas was determined to make every moment count.

Cas finished the last of his burger and polished off most of his fries, pushing his plate back and letting out a loud belch. He quickly covered his mouth with his hands, completely mortified.

"Oh my god, excuse me," he squeaked, hoping that display wouldn't hinder his chances with the sexy angel across the table.

Dean wasn't sure what was funnier, that he just burped like a champ or the flustered look on Cas' face.

"Now that's the kind of compliment a man likes." Bobby walked up to the booth in time for the show of appreciation and slapped Cas on the back. "Glad you liked it, son."

"Dean said you made the best burgers in town," Cas replied, scooting to the edge of his seat. "He did not exaggerate."

Cas pulled the velcro of his cape apart, leaving it behind and excused himself for the restroom. Both Dean and Bobby watched him walk away, although for very different reasons; Dean admired Castiel's backside, Bobby watched for additional signs of intoxication.

Satisfied that the dark haired man was okay,  Bobby turned to Dean. "Knock off the drooling, boy," he chuckled and swatted him on the arm.

"What?" Dean tossed back innocently, grin firmly in place.

"Well, Ellen would have both our hides if I let you take that boy home drunk." Bobby warned. "But he seems to be sobering up nicely."

Dean was genuinely hurt. "Ellen knows me better than that, doesn't she?" he asked. "Why do you think I brought him here? The food?" he snickered.

"Ha ha," Bobby tried to look stern but failed.  "Well _I_ know you know better and _you_ know you know better, but she worries." Bobby sent an appreciative glance Ellen's way before continuing. "He seems nice. Just be careful"

Cas washed his hands after using the restroom and stood looking at his reflection in the mirror above the sink, seeing the disheveled state of his hair, the crooked tilt of the halo on his head, the ridiculously happy grin curving his mouth. He was hardly even buzzed anymore, but still felt an undeniable high, one that he was sure had all to do with a certain mischievous angel in the booth not more than 20 steps from the door to this bathroom.

Back at the party Cas had been more than happy to make this a ‘one-and-done’ type of deal, wanting only to live a little like Meg had always told him to do, but the way Dean had looked at him, the way Cas’ heart seemed to contract in an aching bliss each and every damn time Dean’s hands just barely touched him, had Cas wondering, _hoping_ that this would last longer than one night.

That gave him pause, and he looked back up to his own eyes in the mirror. Was he really ready for something like that? This year had held so many ups and downs for him; he wasn’t entirely sure _what_ he was ready for, and on most days, who he even was.

But when was the last time he'd met a man as attentive and patient as Dean Winchester? _Never_ , he answered himself, _I've never met a man like that._ Cas shook his head, still uncertain, but resolved; he wasn’t just going to let Dean walk out of his life without a fight.

He squared his shoulders and marched out of the bathroom, readjusting the halo on his head, and stepping right up to Dean, still sitting in the booth. He hauled him up out of the booth by his arm, planting a rough kiss to his mouth as soon as the taller man gained his feet.

Cas’ lips were forceful and hard in a way that shot heat directly to Dean’s middle. It made his toes curl in his shoes. He stood with his mouth agape when Cas finally let him go. Whoa, he did not see that coming. Wow did he like it.

Casually, Castiel grabbed the check from Jo who sidled up as soon as they parted. She knew a couple ready to hit the road when she saw one. He handed her cash from his wallet and turned to Dean who was still staring at him with surprise.

“Dean, you really should not stand with your mouth hanging open,” he whispered into his ear, “or I’ll be forced to put something in it.” And with that, he grabbed Dean’s hand and led the way out to the car.

Dean stumbled, more than a little dumbfounded, behind Cas, his mouth still hanging open despite the man’s tantalizing words. He could still feel the rasp of stubble from Cas’ chin against his own, still feel the ghost of the hot press of his lips. He brought his free hand up to his mouth, brushing his fingers against the kiss that had just been there. This was happening, holy shit, was it ever.

He fumbled for his keys as they came upon his car, getting them into the lock after the second try on the passenger’s side then racing around the hood to unlock his own door as Cas slid into his seat. Dean practically threw himself into the driver’s side, wrenching to the side to frame Cas’ face with his hands and repay the surprise he had gotten inside the bar before he even turned the ignition over. Cas’ words rang in Dean's head as smashed their lips together, _'I'll be forced to put something in it'_. Christ, could the man be any sexier?

Dean liked the Cas he’d me at the party; the soft, plaint Cas who timidly opened his mouth to Dean’s tongue and sighed against his lips, the Cas that rubbed against him so eagerly had made him hard with want. But, he _loved_ the Cas he met in Harvelle’s. This Cas suckled his searching tongue. This Cas moved his hand with purpose up the inside of Dean’s thigh and grazed finger along his length - hard now with need.

Dean curled his fingers into Cas’ hair and pressed their foreheads together. “I want to be inside you,” he ground out.

Cas grunted his agreement. “Then perhaps you should start the car.”

Dean pulled away reluctantly, fighting hard to catch his breath. Aching desire coiled low in his belly, fueled to a near unbearable tension from the sight of Cas looking so utterly debauched- eyes heavy lidded, lips puffy and kiss bruised, hair a tousled mess. Dean chuckled hoarsely and righted the lopsided halo on Cas' head before turning in his seat and starting the car. He peeled out of the parking lot, his only goal in that moment to get back to his apartment as quickly as possible, and gasped loudly when he felt Cas' hands on his thigh again.

Cas pushed Dean's legs apart and flipped the fluffy skirt back. His arousal pushed against the fabric of white briefs and already showed a dark spot of precum.

"Dean, you are very beautiful." Cas admired the shape of his upper thighs and hard bulge before slipping an appreciative hand into his underwear.

Dean was having an increasingly hard time keeping his eyes on the road, especially now with Cas' hand, warm and dexterous, gripping his straining cock near the thick base. He nodded haltingly at Cas' compliment.

"T- thank you, " he somehow managed to say.

He humped his hips up a bit into Cas' stroking hand. “I'm not gonna last much longer if you keep that up," he warned in a voice that was mostly a groan.

“I want you to last when we get there,” Castiel replied smoothly and pulled the white material down and Dean’s swollen member out.

The cool night air sent a ripple up the flesh from base to head and Dean let out another groan. Cas caressed his sac through the cloth and ran his tongue over the head before sliding the tip passed his lips. He felt Dean buck again and laughed in his throat. The vibration tickled over his cock and Dean freed one hand from the wheel. He tossed the poor halo into the backseat with the horns and cape and then grasped a handful of dark hair.

"Jesus," Dean moaned throatily, feeling the incredible wet warmth of Cas' mouth envelop his throbbing dick in a slick slide.

Cas backed off almost completely before swallowing Dean down again, setting a tortuous pace. Dean tightened his fingers in Cas thick hair, not wanting to be too overzealous and choke the man but desperately needing a faster speed. He thrust his hips up, fucking into Cas mouth as deeply as he dared to go, still trying like hell to keep his eyes on the road even as his vision began to blur with his quickly approaching orgasm.

His release hit him suddenly, almost catching Dean off guard. His entire body tightened like a spring and exploded in a shattering crash of pleasure that sent wave after wave radiating from his dick out to his limbs. He swerved into the opposite lane and then back to his own with a groan, letting his head fall back and watching the road out of half-closed eyes. His body jerked over and over as Cas continued to suckle the last few spurts of cum from his spasming dick.

Dean watched him sit back up in his seat and wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. It had been a cute gesture at the bar. It pushed another rush through Dean here in the car as he put himself back together and his softening cock gave a twitch, trying valiantly to work its way back to hard.  

The apartment complex was in sight now and Dean rushed his baby through the gate and skid into a space. Cas was practically glowing with self-satisfaction as he opened the car door and let Dean pull him out and press him against the side. They kissed deeply and hungrily again.

Cas swiped his tongue into Dean's mouth to let Dean taste himself, moaning low in his throat at the way Dean lapped up the heady, thick flavor.

Cas quickly pulled back, gasping for breath. “Take me upstairs,” he ordered in that husky whisper, feeling his cock pressing so hard up against the inside of his trousers it was actually painful.

Because as much as he loved the taste and feel of Dean's tongue, he was afraid he'd cum in his pants right here in the damn parking lot if they kept going like this.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean stood swaying a bit before nodding numbly at Cas' command. The saltiness of his own spend lingered at his mouth from Cas' kiss and he swallowed thickly. That had been the single best instance of road head Dean had ever received and he found his brain was having a very difficult time processing thought after being cleared so effectively with the shattering force of his orgasm.

One thing he did comprehend though was the needy demand in Cas' voice and the fact that his red slacks were tented with the erection hiding underneath. Dean grabbed Cas' hand and practically sprinted to his apartment on the second floor.

He wrenched the door open and threw Cas back up against it after it closed. Cas huffed out a surprised grunt that was quickly swallowed up by Dean's mouth.

Dean wanted, no _needed_ , to reciprocate the pleasure Cas had given him. He pressed him hard against the door and nipped his lips and chin, wanting to taste every expanse of flesh he could find. His hands, trembling with excitement, searched for skin and only grasped clothes. He punched the wall next to them in frustration.

“You’re wearing too much stuff,” he finally huffed.

Cas chuckled as Dean took a step back to give him room to strip. He hurriedly began unbuttoning his vest and dropped it by the door as soon as he got his fingers to stop shaking long enough to work the damn infuriating buttons free.

Dean tugged him through the living room with a feral grin that faltered only slightly when he hopped a few steps to pull off his shoes. Cas chuckled again and unfastened the top buttons on his shirt and yanked it up over his head. It dropped next to Dean’s shoes in a hapless heap next to the couch.

Dean looked back over his shoulder, gesturing for Cas to get a move on as he stepped out of his skirt. He left it where it fell in the hallway, adding to the trail of discarded clothing that lead from the front door to the bedroom.

Cas almost tripped out of his slacks as he followed behind Dean and had to brace himself against the bedroom door frame to keep himself upright. Dean smirked and tugged him into the room and shut the door behind them. Cas stood back for a moment, his heart beating out a wildly uneven staccato, letting his eyes roam over Dean’s sun kissed skin and rippling muscles as he yanked the halter to his shoulders and over his head. It was here that Dean realized his arms were stuck.

Cas laughed heartily and reached out to help Dean pull the thin fabric up over his head. It came after a couple of rough tugs and Cas was treated to the sight of Dean’s hair sticking up in all different directions once he was finally free. Dean, panting and visibly irritated with the interruption, flashed Cas a predatory grin.

“Bed. _Now_ ,” he growled, pointing to the large king-sized bed taking up most of the room.

Heat pooled low in Cas’ groin, expanding his already engorged dick and he quickly complied, stepping up beside the thick comforter covered mattress, hooking his thumbs into the elastic waistband of his dark blue boxer-briefs to remove them.

Dean was suddenly at his side, his large hand stilling Cas’ movements at his hip.

“Leave em on for a little while," he said, green eyes glinting roguishly.

Cas jerked his head in an uncertain nod, anticipation zinging through all of his nerve endings, and he climbed up on the bed.

Dean tossed a few condoms and a small bottle of lube towards the pillows and joined Cas on the plush mattress.

"I'm gonna make this great," he promised as he stretched himself over Cas and settled his narrow hips between Cas' knees.

On propped elbows, he leaned down to lick his lips as he pushed his hips forward. He was rewarded with a sigh from Cas as their clothed arousals rubbed hard. Cas' hands crept up along Dean's ribs before clutching tight as Dean moved against him in another crushing thrust. Dean kept their kiss sweet as he moved again and was met by Cas' upward swing. His lips traced his mouth to his jaw and neck as he found a rewarding rhythm.

Cas gasped sharply, his hands flying up to Dean's shoulders, fingers digging into the steely muscles. His whole body felt wound tight, aching to explode, and he cried out hoarsely when Dean kissed his way down his stomach to his clothed erection. He reached his hands down to tangle in the short strands of Dean's hair just as Dean mouthed over the tented fabric of Cas' boxer-briefs, wetting the already pre-cum stained material. A spreading dark spot clung to Cas' straining cock as Dean continued to suck at the moist, briny tasting cotton.

Dean looked up at Cas, his green eyes sparking dangerously in the low light. He took in Cas' heaving chest, his dilated pupils, his body tight with the need for release, and pulled back slightly.

"Not yet," he said with a single shake of his head, tugging Cas' boxers off with a rough yank. “I don't want you to come until I tell you to, until I'm balls deep in that perfect ass. Do you think you can do that for me?"

Cas nodded his assent wordlessly, not able to form a reply even if he wanted to as Dean tossed the briefs to the floor. Dean’s words zinged through his groin and his dick bobbed in agreement as well, leaving a droplet of precum below his belly button.

Dean’s mischievous grin pulled at his lips for just a moment more before his brows knit together. Cas watched breathlessly as Dean settled between his legs, wonder plain on his would-be-angel's face as he looked down at his leaking cock. On his knees now with lube within easy reach, Dean parted Cas’ thighs and puffed a cooling breath below his sac causing it to pull in on itself for warmth. Cas threw his head back and jerked violently when Dean blew a breath out over his swollen member and overly sensitive balls. A shiver wracked through his whole body, sending tingles down to his toes and back up to his fingertips and he groaned helplessly, his hands finding and gripping the plush comforter beneath him as if he could somehow anchor himself down to the bed.

He had full view of Cas' arousal dancing for attention and his puckered hole quivering in anticipation. He wondered if this is what Castiel meant when he called him beautiful in the car because, with Cas spread out before him like a meal, he was witnessing the most amazing vision of his life.

Dean's mouth watered as he finally dipped his head to suckle Cas’s bobbing head and ghost his fingers against his back entrance. He circled his tongue before dropping down and taking him to the base. He took a swallow and let the muscles of his throat contract before moving back up, then dropped again and pressed his finger against the resistant flesh of Cas' hole in time with his movements.

The sudden feel of Dean’s mouth, so wet and warm, around the thick head of his dick and the feather-light touches against his trembling hole nearly had Cas coming undone right then and there, but he quickly remembered Dean’s words denying him the reward of orgasm until he gave Cas permission to do so and he tried desperately to think of something, anything, other than the exquisite feelings bombarding him. Baseball stats, bible verses, long division: It all seemed to help back off his impending release until Dean swallowed down the whole length of him and he felt the head of his cock press tightly against the back of Dean’s throat.

Cas moaned loudly, “D- Dean,” his fingers clawing into the bedspread. “Oh god, Dean.” He dragged his knees up, planting his feet on the mattress - a silent urge for Dean’s lightly probing fingers to go deeper and more firmly. Dean took that as his cue to move forward.  

With his mouth still savoring Cas' cock, Dean dripped the lubricant onto his fingers and all over Cas’ skin before messaging the wetness to warmth. He pressed one finger against the tight muscles but this time felt easy give. He moved as slowly as he could, now stroking Cas’ length as he nibbled the insides of his thighs. He sat up to watch himself work. Could he make himself cum again before even pushing inside?

Slick digits were suddenly against Cas’ skin and he nearly wept with relief. They stroked and prodded against his entrance, stretching him open with a unspeakably pleasurable burn. Cas huffed out a shaky breath when he felt Dean’s mouth against the sensitive flesh of his inner thighs.

Dean continued to torture him with the slow thrusting tempo of his fingers and Cas wrenched his head up, a sob wracking through his chest. “Dean, please. I don’t think I - I don’t think I can…” he let the words fall away on a moan. He thought he might be able to hold on a little longer, but he had never pushed himself so far before. He felt like he was on the very edge of shattering apart, just barely holding himself together.

“Shhhh,” Dean soothed. “Sure you can, Cas.” His free hand slid across Cas’ belly to hold him down as he slipped a second finger inside. “Just a bit longer,” he encouraged. Cas' cock spasmed when he felt Dean's hand slip across his stomach, so close to touching the aching, engorged flesh between his legs and still so far away. Cas groaned in desperation, knowing if Dean just so much as laid a single finger to his dick now he'd cum and he would not be able to stop himself. He thought it might be a mercy then that Dean didn't touch his reddened, needy cock when Cas' body was veritably screaming for release.

He was able to slide back and forth from fingertip to knuckles with ease now and was near pain himself with need.Watching Cas squirming against his hand made his cock jealous and weepy, forcing him to palm himself through his white underwear.

Cas wondered with fevered, distracted thoughts what Dean would do to him if he did cum after Dean had explicitly told him not to; the idea of some kind of punishment was a thrill in and of itself. But still Cas held on, though his strength for fighting against it was quickly waning, especially when Dean began rubbing his fingers against Cas' severely over-sensitized prostate.

“Look at what you do to me, Cas,” Dean commanded.

He pulled his cock free and stroked in time with his probing fingers, gently rubbing the bundle of nerves just inside that beautiful hole with every other stroke. Teasing was all the fun but he was so close himself.

Cas whimpered weakly but looked up when Dean ordered him to, blinking his blurring vision back into focus. Dean had pulled his cock free of his underwear and was pumping it with a tightened fist. Cas felt such an incredible longing for that hand to be on his own dick that it nearly broke him and he felt tears begin to well in his eyes. And when Dean pulled his fingers from Cas' stretched, lax hole he couldn't hold back the tear that slipped down his cheek.

Dean slipped his fingers out and smirked at the disappointed whimper that followed. “You’re almost there, Cas,” came Dean’s reassuring croon. “Almost there.” Dean reached for a condom and pulled off his last article of clothing. The wave of relief that washed over Cas was nearly divine. He quickly began turning onto his stomach, automatically assuming that Dean would want to take him from behind. But Dean's voice, gravel rough and endlessly tender, coaxed him back down onto his back.

“Whoa, whoa. Where are you going?” he asked Cas when he saw him try to scramble to his knees. He placed his hands against Cas’ hips again but this time to gently push him down onto his back. Dean's hand, indescribably affectionate, against Cas' cheek had him melting down onto the bed.

“I thought you’d want…” Cas started but Dean cut him off with a voice as soft as the caress to his face

“Not this time,” he replied. “I want to watch you cum.”  Cas let his bent knees fall open as wide as he could, nodding vigorously.

"Oh god, Dean. Yes, please, please, “Cas begged brokenly, wrapping his arms around his knees and drawing them up against his chest to give Dean better access to his quivering hole.

Pressing the head of his own dick to the slick entrance, Dean leaned his hips forward and let himself slide in slowly. He felt Cas contract and then suckle him in until he was buried to the hilt. The ecstasy coloring Cas’ face was reflected on Dean’s as he swiveled slightly letting Cas adjust to his intrusion, pleasure pouring in from every nerve. He was squeezed in such a tight embrace that making the goal he’d set for Cas would be a challenge now for him as well.

“We’re so close now, buddy,” he crooned again and pulled Cas’ leg up and rested his ankle against his shoulder. “I’m going to move now,” he began, “and I want you to count it off for me. We have to make it to ten strokes before you can cum. Can you do that for me?”

Cas grit his teeth together tightly and he laced his fingers behind Dean's neck, needing to have the grounding feel of Dean's skin against his own to get him through the next ten thrusts. Cas had absolutely no idea how he'd survive, only that if he could hold on just a little longer, he'd be rewarded with what he was sure would be the most satisfying orgasm of his entire life.

He looked up at Dean above him, at his clenched jaw and the faint sheen of sweat slicking his skin, and ground out, "One," when he felt him bottom out.

He saw Dean's throat work as he swallowed, pulling out slowly and plunging back in with hardly any resistance from Cas' body whatsoever.

“Two," Cas groaned.

The leaking tip of his cock brushed against his belly with Dean's movements and Cas had to consciously swallow back a whine. Another thrust hit right on Cas' prostate and another and another and finally they were nearing ten.

Cas was panting and exhausted but still managed to breathe out, "Seven, "on a shuddering puff of air. Dean had pushed him so far and he had held on so long that surely two more could be achieved.

Dean trembled above him, intense pleasure-pain carved starkly into the lines on his face. A bead of sweat dripped from the tip of his nose, splashing down on Cas' lips and Cas darted his tongue out to lick up the droplet, savoring the salty taste with a throaty moan.

Dean's eyes darkened considerably and he gripped roughly at Cas' hip hard enough to bruise. "You've been so good, Cas," he rasped, "I think it's time for you to get your reward."

Cas nodded, never forgetting his duty to count out the strokes, which suddenly came in rapid succession.

“Eight! Nine! _Ten!_ " he shouted hoarsely, glancing up to see the look of utter completion on Dean's face as he came.

Cas could feel Dean's dick spasming deep inside him, filling the condom with a warm rush. And still Cas held on, awaiting Dean's command.

"Come, Cas, “Dean ordered, "You come right now."

And Cas came, his orgasm ripped from him with more force than he had ever experienced, and all with his cock largely untouched. His vision blurred to white at the edges as he cried out in ecstasy, his dick jerking wildly, painting his stomach, chest, and even neck with gleaming stripes of cum.

Dean’s loosened his grip on Cas’ hips and placed a steadying hand on the mattress. His body still shuttered with orgasm as he sucked in deep breaths. He let Cas leg fall as he looked down at him. Cas was panting and dazed and covered in his own cum.

Dean felt a smile creep across his face as he stroked Cas’ cheek again. “You okay?”

“No,” Cas croaked. He chuckled at the panic on Dean’s face and continued. “I’m amazing.”

Satisfied, Dean leaned back and pulled himself slowly out, holding the condom in place so as not to lose it. He tied it up and dropped it back in the wrapper before letting his now liquid body fall back to mattress with a heavy sigh.

THUNK!

Cas popped up onto his elbows and watched Dean as he rubbed the back of his head. Giggles were bubbling up out of Dean’s chest and passed themselves on to Cas.

“Did you just…” Cas started snickering harder now.

“Hit my head on the footboard?” Dean asked. “Yes I did.” His giggles were quickly running into belly laughs too.

Cas leaned back against the pillows to take a deep breath and laugh again.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Dean argued with mock anger. “This hurts. If I had a pillow, I’d whack you with it.”

THUNK!

Dean caught the pillow Cas threw at him with his face and hit his head again.

“Oh my god!” Cas cried out, sitting up and reaching for Dean. Now his stomach was starting to ache from laughing. “I’m so sorry!”

“Wait,” Dean waved him off to stop him from getting up. “You’ll drip!”

He planted his foot on the edge of the bed, slipped and abruptly fell face first into the carpet. Castiel was howling with laughter now and so was Dean.

“Are you always this graceful after sex, Dean?” Cas asked, giggles still tripping from his mouth.

“Unbelievable,” Dean murmured between his own chuckles.

He quickly ran for a clean towel and bottles of water, then took his time wiping the evidence of their time together from Cas’ skin and handed him a bottle.

“It’s all you, Cas,” he said quietly in answer to Cas' question and leaned in for a soft kiss.

Cas felt his heart take a flying leap into this stomach but did his best to keep a skeptical face. After what he just experienced, he really wanted to believe that. But, he thought to himself solemnly, he wasn’t born yesterday. He sighed and shook the disparaging thoughts away, commanding himself to just enjoy it while it lasted.

Once they were both clean and Dean had disposed of the condom wrapper, Cas tucked his legs under the covers and held one side up for Dean.

“Thought you’d never ask,” said with a sideways grin and he quickly slipped in beside the would-be devil.

Cas snuggled in close and yawned. He had more than a few questions running around in his head but now was not the time to ask. He would wait and see what the morning would bring. Would this feeling of euphoria they both were riding still be as strong come daylight? Would they still look at each other the same way? He certainly hoped so, and with a hope that was deeper and stronger than any he'd felt before .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We really hope you're enjoying our story so far! We're planning on posting a new chapter every other day if we can, so stay tuned for more fun


	4. Chapter 4

Cas watched the morning sun glisten off of that sleek black paint as Dean drove away. Standing on his front stoop, he took a moment to relish that first intense coupling they had shared. And then to relish the second, the third and the amazing breakfast Dean made. But reality reared its ugly head early and called Dean to his shop and Cas to his own home.

Dean was, in fact, not just a mechanic but owner of the local auto body and repair shop downtown. Business was booming on Saturdays and taking the day off had not been an option. For Cas, at least weekends off was a perk of being an accountant. Being a defunct priest does not the bills pay, he had reminded himself when he’d dusted off his old resume.

With a content smile, Cas turned to the door and let himself in. If he was lucky, Meg would still be sleeping. If he was really lucky, Meg would not even be home. If she stood him up last night, it may have been for tastier fish. He let himself in and quietly shut the door behind him. Toeing off his shoes, he tiptoed down the hall and past the kitchen. He paused in the living room to stand in the sunlight pouring in through the large windows. All the lights were off but the thick shafts of sun cascading in gave the house such a warm feel. Cas loved that about the place. He let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding and started for his room.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Meg drawled.

Cas jumped at Meg's voice and turned slowly to see her standing in the wide archway that lead to the kitchen, her hip cocked against the door frame. She brought a coffee mug up to her mouth, smirking at him over the rim.

Cas felt a hot blush creep its way up his neck. "I - I uh..." he sputtered helplessly, not even sure how to begin.

“Spit it out, Clarence,” she quipped and moved into the room with him.

She plucked the devil horns from his hand and placed it on her own head as she lounged on the couch. Cas grimaced at the familiar nickname.

“If I give you a dollar, will you stop calling me Clarence?” Cas asked as he took the opposite spot on the couch.

Meg adjusted the horns on her head, considering his request. “Nope,” came her reply.

Cas snickered and tucked his feet under Meg as she did the same. This prickly beauty was a piece of work. She ran her tattoo business with an iron fist, but earned the undying loyalty of customer and employee alike. He admired her “devil may care” attitude and often allowed her to corrupt him. It was a hobby of hers now that he was no longer a man of the cloth. Only Balthazar liked Meg but Cas thought it was because he wanted to get into her pants. Too bad for him, Meg didn’t swing that way.

Cas swallowed his embarrassment and asked what he meant to ask last night. “Why did you stand me up?”

Her answer was quick, “Because you need it.”

“How do I need it? It was rude and unnecessary.” Cas frowned at her.

Meg hummed in agreement. “Yes,” she said. “It was. But if I went with you, you would have rolled in before midnight and slept like a precious angel in your own bed.”

Cas grimaced as he flushed again. Dammit, she knew how to get under his skin. Dammit, she knew how to be right.

“That’s not the point...” he started.

“Yes it is the point,” she interrupted. “So, what’s his name?”

Cas glanced down at his hands, a thoughtful smile curving at his lips. “Dean,” he said after a moment,  looking back up at her. “Dean Winchester.”

And he was amazed at how easily the name rolled off his tongue, how right it felt when his mouth shaped those letters. He had shouted the name enough times last night to make his voice raw and hoarse, but even then he knew he could never tire of it. He could say it ten thousand more times, in a hundred different ways, and it would still make his chest feel tight and warm with the quietly thrumming elation he was feeling now.

Cas ducked his head down briefly as a happy blush flushed his cheeks. "And he's amazing," he said softly.

"Wow," Meg chuckled at the wistful sigh in Cas voice. "You know how I get all dewey when you spill details, Clarence. Spill away." Meg placed her empty mug on coffee table and pulled the blanket down over their shared lap. She was settling in for the long haul.

Cas smiled to himself as he recounted the costume, the bar and the car ride. He hesitated here in his story. "He was just so..."

"Strong? Sexy? Flexible?" Meg helpfully supplied.

"Amazing!" Cas blurted again.

"He rendered you speechless? That's all I get? Boring!" Meg declared and gave Cas a soft kick.

Cas dutifully returned the kick with a smile.

"Wait," Meg sat up as she remembered something. "Winchester as in Winchester Customs?"

"Yes, Meg," he answered, concern creeped into his voice.

"He came in with his brother for matching tattoos a few years ago. Is he the hot, tall one or the hot really tall one?" Excitement shone in her eyes as she looked over at Cas, brows arched.

"What?" Cas frowned incredulously at her question. “Dean is hot and tall so I suppose he's the first one. But," Cas countered himself, "he didn't mention how tall Sam is. Just that he's younger but I don't see..."

"So then, he's the hot, tall one." Meg deduced. "The moose is his kid brother."

"Moose?" Cas asked, only slightly perplexed, feeling a vague sense of jealousy from the fact that Meg seemed to know more intricate details about the man he had spent the night with than _he_ did.

Meg smirked at him, shifting under the blanket covering them. "I guess you didn't have much time to discuss your family backgrounds, bein' so busy and all."

She waggled her eyebrows suggestively and Cas blushed again, his mind instantly flashing back to Dean's bed and exactly how busy they actually had been.

He cleared his throat and absently wrung his hands together. "You'd be correct in that assumption, " he admitted.

“You’re so naughty, Clarence,” Meg declared with a chuckle from deep in her throat. She sobered quickly, though, as she asked her next question, "Did the topic of _your_ family come up?”

Cas frowned deeply at her question. “He knows about my former… occupation. He does not know why I left or what _they_ think about it.” Cas sighed and pulled himself up off the couch, letting his half of the blanket fall onto Meg’s lap. “If he calls, I guess I’ll be forced to cross that particular bridge. Not a fun prospect but it will come up eventually.”

Cas knew better than anyone that you didn’t turn your back on God in the Novak family without dire consequences. They practically owned the small cathedral downtown with all the money they had donated over the years. There had been a Novak leading vespers for as long as the Novaks had been breathing; his family was nothing if not archaically traditional.

Meg stood with him and pulled him close for a warm embrace. He leaned his head down to touch her forehead with his own and drank in her consoling words. “I’ve figured one thing out about this world, just one, pretty much,” she sighed and held him tighter, “You find a cause and you serve it. It just wasn’t your cause, Castiel, and that’s okay.”

Cas let out a shuddering breath and nodded against her forehead. It was not that he did not believe in God or enjoy his work; Castiel turned his back on the church because he was taking vows for the fear of his “unnatural” desires, not for his love and dedication to God. His father was convinced that taking those vows would “purge his soul of that abdominal need.”  

He sighed deeply with the memory. Of his four brothers and one sister, only Balthazar and Gabriel seemed to take his side.He had spent most of his high school years ignoring his preferences and rolled into college carrying a hefty suitcase of denial. Yet being away from his family, away from the oppressive traditions of staunch Republicanism and Catholic Orthodoxy, he slowly unpacked the suitcase and eventually sampled every flavor his innocent taste buds could handle. It was the resultant promiscuity that angered his brothers, even Luci who was the defiant one. Sweet Anna had been disappointed that he brother had left a trail of lovers behind him instead of maintaining a monogamous relationship. But it was his father’s rejection of Castiel’s true self that hurt the most. The others didn’t mind men; they minded the baby spreading himself so thinly amongst the student body. His father called him an abomination. That was what ultimately made Cas stop and take stock. That’s what made him stop his behavior, finish his degree and enter the seminary.

“Okay,” Meg pulled back from him after another moment. “Enough with the hugging.”

Cas chuckled, pulling her tiny frame in for one more tight embrace and to press a kiss the top of her head.

“You are very good for me, Meg.” Cas sighed into her hair, feeling unendingly grateful for her companionship.

“Shut it,” was her quip. She wrestled out of Cas’ hug with a mostly straight face.

Cas chuckled again as he watched her head back into the kitchen with a haughty sway to her hips. “You first,” he called after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note about Meg's line about finding a cause. In case you don't recall that line of from 7.21 Reading in Fundamental. Wish I wrote that but can't take credit on that one. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!
> 
> A


	5. Chapter 5

Dean had just barely pulled the Impala away from Cas' place when his phone rang. He looked away from the road for a moment as he picked it up out of the cup holder. "Sammy!" he exclaimed warmly. "How the hell are you?"

There was silence at the other end of the line. And after a beat, "Dean?"

"Yeah, it's Dean! Who did you think this was?" His smile unconsciously fell into a frown for a moment as he stared out the windshield at the road before him.

He could hear Sam chuckle from the other end of the line. "Just checkin' man. I've never heard you sound so _happy_ this early in the morning. "

“Yeah well,” Dean replied smugly, “Good times were had by all last night. I may lose bets to you more often.” He was not letting Killjoy Winchester ruin this buzz. Actually, he wanted to rub it in that his plan had backfired.

“What?!” Sam asked, the pitch of his voice rising slightly. Surely his frat-boy brother in a dress did not get laid last night. He had looked ridiculous when he’d left.

Dean could practically hear the disapproving expression on Sam’s face and it brought back his smile immediately. “That’s right, Sammy-boy. Your idea got me the best piece of…”

“Dude!” Sam shouted through the phone, making Dean swing his hand away from the piercing sound of his little brother’s exclamation. “There is not enough peroxide on _Earth_ to clean my ears. No details!” Sam objected.

“Point to the big bro,” Dean snickered, taking a left turn with one hand and merging into traffic with ease. _Damn I love this car_ , he thought with a fondness that could only be reserved for his Baby.

“Whatever,” Sam huffed. “I was really hoping to find you hung over and miserable. You take all the fun out of being a little brother.”  Dean could hear him pushing papers around and pictured him sitting at his desk at the law office downtown, surrounded by stacks and stacks of client files and deposition transcripts. And he knew that was exactly where Sam was, working hard, even on a Saturday. He chuckled lightly to himself when he realized he was on his way to do the same damn thing.

"Yeah, well that's my job so get over it." Dean readjusted the phone against his ear. "And I did a hell of a lot better than a ninety year old grandma!" He laughed heartily and pulled to a stop at a red light. "Besides, that can't be the only reason you called."

"Actually, that kinda was. What, like I need a reason to call my brother?" Sam quipped.

Dean could feel the warm smile in Sam's voice and it seeped into his own. He swapped the phone to his left hand and leaned his elbow out the window.

"Of course not," he agreed. "But I really do think I owe you for last night. Now, don't get your panties in a bunch." he said, cutting off Sam's protests with a chuckle. "That's a _good_ thing. I think I met someone special."

He took another turn and pulled into the lot, finally arriving at the shop.

"Really?" Sam sounded skeptical but excited. "What's so special about this one? Did he think your jokes were actually funny?"

Dean turned off the motor and leaned back in his seat. Why was Cas special? Was it his eyes? They seemed so full of innocence but his body moved with such practice. He'd cried out so wantonly but then slept like an angel. He was so full of contradictions but felt like a steadying force for Dean.

"Dude," Sam's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Did he steal your tongue?"

Dean chuckled lightly. "A couple of times actually" he said coyly. He could hear Sam groan on the other end of the line. "Hey, you started it!"

"Alright, alright, " Sam conceded "I guess I deserved that one. But you still didn't answer my question. What's so special about him?"

Dean quieted again, considering. How could he put it into words? How he could he tell Sam that Cas was the first person that had genuinely made him smile in more months than he could count? How could he tell Sam that he felt more of a connection with Cas in the few short hours they'd known each other than he'd had with any other man he'd ever known?

"He's just...amazing," was all Dean could think to answer with. Little did he know, across town, Cas was using the same word at nearly the same time when talking to Meg about _him_.

Sam's laugh floated across the line as Dean finally climbed out of his car. "Does this special and amazing person have a name?"

"Of course," Dean huffed. "He's Castiel."

"Um... Okay. Does this _Castiel_ have a last name?" Sam pressed.

Dean opened his mouth to reply then closed it. He pursed his lips and then opened his mouth again. "I didn't catch it," he mumbled.

Sam's guffaw sent a blush up Dean's neck and across his cheeks.

“What is this? The third degree?” Dean barked goodnaturedly. “You really are too good at your job, you know that, Sammy?”

"You did get a number right? And it really works?” Sam asked with a chuckle. “If you start calling now, maybe you'll catch that last name by dinner tomorrow."

Dean ran a hand down his face but had to conceded that small victory to Sam. So he wasn't thinking with the right head. So sue him.

"Laugh it up, kid." Dean grumbled. "I'll be there tomorrow for Sunday dinner. And there better be pie."

“You know I could never forget the pie,” Sam said, a tone of seriousness settling into his voice. “Hey,” he continued after a moment of shuffling papers,  “I’m happy you found someone, just… just be careful, okay?”

Dean stilled with his hand over the keys in the door of the shop, unwanted memories coming back in a dark rush. He shook his head to clear them away and let himself in the front door.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, trying for a nonchalant air and falling miserably short. “You just worry about remembering the pie, bitch.”

  
Sam was quick to retort with the customary _“Jerk”_ before Dean hung up and walked into his shop to ready it for the long day ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're so glad everyone's enjoying the story so far! Feel free to look us up on tumblr at why-yes-i-do-like-that-show.tumblr.com and lopsided-whiskey-grin.tumblr.com if you ever wanna chat ^_^


	6. Chapter 6

Cas smoothed out the creases on his navy colored overshirt when he heard the doorbell ring from where he stood in the kitchen. He licked his lips nervously and backed away from the stove, which was covered in various sized pots and pans steaming vigorously, and turned to make his way to the front door. This dinner date had been his idea -- a great way to have a quiet conversation over a homecooked meal without too much pressure -- but this would be the first time he’d be seeing Dean since the Halloween party last week and the butterflies in his stomach had been fluttering around incessantly since Dean had called him and asked if he could see him again.

Cas walked out of the kitchen, heading for the front door, when Meg zipped by him, throwing it open before Cas could even let out a word of protest.

Nothing beat apple pie ala mode and Dean was anxious to get the ice cream in the freezer. He looked down at his jeans and boots. Maybe he should have gone with slacks. When the door swung open he expected a 6ft Cas not a 5ft something Meg. When Cas mentioned that Meg was his friend he didn't make the connection. Now the fiery brunette who had tattooed him and his brother was eyeballing him from the doorway.

"I heard a Winchester was sniffing around my boy here," she drawled leaning against the frame, arms crossed. "I wanted to see for myself."

"Long time no see, Meg." Dean would not be intimidated by a munchkin. He turned on his 100 watt smile and replied. "I'm not sniffing around your territory am I? Didn't think you were into tall, dark and male?"

Meg's smile was as brilliant as Dean's but her voice was ice. "I'm not above breaking kneecaps, Dean."

"Meg!" Cas chided from behind her.

Dean held up a hand to stave off Cas and opened his arms for a hug, smug smile on his face. "You wouldn't be the bad-ass we all know and love if you didn't."

Meg stepped into his arms from a brief moment and then stepped back to let him in, eyeballing him closely.

"Are you staying for dinner too?" Dean asked, praying the answer was no as he sidled through the open door.

“I was actually just leaving,” Meg said, smiling sweetly as she closed the door behind him.

Dean let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and stepped farther into the apartment. Meg came around the side of him and over to Cas, pulling him into a tight hug and nuzzling her mouth up to whisper in his ear. Dean felt a momentary flare of jealousy burn so hotly in his stomach that he had to consciously work to push back. It was an automatic response that he thought he should have had more control over. Guess old habits die hard, he thought sullenly.

“Have a good time, Clarence,” Meg whispered, “And save me some of that dinner that smells so delicious.”

She gave them both a saccharine smile as she released Cas from her embrace, grabbing her purse and keys and heading out.

"She try to run off all your boyfriends?" Dean asked, good humor shining in his eyes after he’d effectively tamped down the insecurity that tried flooding through him. He showed Cas the bag of ice cream and was ushered into the kitchen.

With an amused smile, he watched from the archway as Cas chattered on and flitted around the kitchen in something of a frenzy. He was nervous, Dean quickly realized. He stepped into the kitchen and into Cas' space, then pulled Cas' face to his own and pressed their lips together.

Dean had spent the week working through the memory of each kiss they shared and it built up enough tension that this one kiss sent all the blood rushing to his groin. He groaned into Cas' surprised mouth and suckled on his tongue before pulling back to look into his beautiful eyes.

"Hi, Cas,” he said simply.

Cas’ eyes fluttered open slowly and he looked up at Dean, the shock of that long-awaited contact zinging through all of his nerve endings. “H- Hi, Dean,” he stuttered.

The nervousness Cas had been feeling leading up to Dean arriving on his doorstep melted away with the solid press of the taller man’s lips and he went up on his tiptoes, chasing after another kiss. He was suddenly hungry for more than the dinner he had been preparing, the greater part of an hour forgotten.

His arms went up behind Dean’s neck, drawing him down closer, and he took Dean’s plush bottom lip in between his teeth, biting down gently before sweeping his tongue into Dean’s open mouth, savoring the heady taste of him, finding it was exactly as he remembered from last week.

Dean let his hands slide down Cas’ back and over the swell of his ass. Through his slacks, he clenched each side and, reliving the memory of parting Cas’ legs over his own hips, he pressed one arousal against the other. The heat between them was palpable, sending sizzles through the air and smoke.

SMOKE?!

Dean pushed Cas away to turned to the stove. The pasta water was overflowing and demanded their attention.

“Cockblocked by dinner,” Dean laughed, tugging gently on Cas’ ear. “That’s a new one.”

Together they rescued the forgotten meal; Dean set the table as Cas plated the food. Their dance through these dinner rituals seemed so natural; each making room for other as they reached for plates, serving spoons and napkins. Finally seated at the dining room table, Dean reached across and grabbed Cas’ hand.

“Thanks for having me over, Cas.”

Cas squeezed Dean’s hand and ducked his head down for a moment before glancing back up. The soft lighting in the small dining room lit across Dean’s face, highlighting the freckles dusting across the bridge of his nose and Cas suddenly felt it a little hard to breathe.

“Thanks for helping me save our dinner,” he said, nodding toward the pasta casserole and garlic bread before them.

Dean gave him a winning smile and squeezed his hand warmly before letting go and tucking into the food on his plate. It had been a long day down at the shop, with him barely having time to eat half a sandwich for lunch, and he was starving. He tried to keep some decorum of meal-time manners but the delicious taste of the food had him shovelling spoonfuls into his mouth.

Dean looked up after a moment , smiling around the food in his mouth. "This is really good!" he exclaimed.

Cas couldn't help but puff up at the compliment and the man giving it. Dean was adorable talking with his mouth full.  

Cas chuckled lightly and watched Dean eat while he himself took a couple bites. “So, Meg says she was the one that gave you that tattoo I saw on your chest,” he mentioned, trying awkwardly to start a conversation.  

He swallowed and took a sip of his beer. "Yeah well, I guess you could say my brother and I went through a rebellious phase," he started. "It's an anti possession tattoo."  

He laughed at Cas' questioning grimace and took another, smaller bite. "No, I don't believe in the occult," he continued. "We both got it. It means no one will own us without consent."

And then it was Dean's turn to frown at his own words; he had never revealed so much about himself so quickly, especially to someone he had barely known for a week.  

"That doesn't sound like rebellion," Cas replied, empathy in his eyes, "It sounds like taking ownership of yourself." Perhaps I should get one, Cas thought to himself. "I suppose there is a story there, Dean. I'd like to hear it when you are able to share."

Dean was surprised and grateful for Cas' response. He's been pressed for that story before and it was hard to divulge; only Sam knew the whole of it. He looked over at the dark haired man sitting across from him with a gentle smile curving his lips and a flush pinkening his cheeks and suddenly felt that protective warmth creep over him again. He was going to fall for Castiel, and hard.

Dean took another bite and remembered a question he had as well, "Dude, so what is your last name? I need to prove to Sammy that you're a real boy and not some hot sex toy." He laughed again at Cas’ adorable blush. Mini mission accomplished.

"Well, you can tell your brother that my last name is Novak. And I'm very much a real boy," he laughed, looking down at his plate to take another bite of his pasta.

He looked back up to see a shocked expression on Dean's face. "You mean the Novak's?"

Cas immediately regretted letting his last name slip without first steeling himself for that kind it reaction, but sadly realized it was too late to backpedal.

" Yes," he said, his face unwittingly falling into a guarded mask,  "The Novak's." He hoped Dean might not press for more information, but he knew that he'd have reveal that side of his life sooner or later. He'd rather it be later. "Suffice it to say, the only thing I really have in common with my family anymore is our name. "

Dean watched Castiel pull into himself and shut him out. The Novaks owned half the town and had their name on all of the important buildings. He would have made the connection sooner if any of their kids went to school with other locals. No, those kids went to private boarding schools with others like them. The oldest son had run for Mayor a few years ago and was in the state capital now. The Novaks were definitely big fish in a small pond.

Several things fell into place with this information. Cas only slipping him his first name, his mini meltdown at the party and his dodging his family question at Harvelle’s. What had they done to him make Castiel so ashamed of his place within their ranks? What had Cas done to make them so angry?

“So, uh,” Dean proceeded with caution, “Am I gonna have to buy a suit for family get-togethers or are they a t-shirt and jeans kind of family?” He tried to use his charm to melt through Cas’ defenses. “I mean, I’m sexy in a skirt but you should see me in a suit and tie.”

Cas felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth but kept his gaze down on his plate. He took another bite before turning those blue eyes back to Dean. “You are incredibly sexy, Dean, whether in a skirt or not.”

He let himself be moved away from dark topics by Dean’s flirtatious banter and it was no time at all that the plates were empty and the kitchen was cleaned.

But, as the pair was parked in front of the large TV after deciding on a movie, Cas found the edge brought on by the topic of family would not be shaken; it gnawed at him with a subdued and unwanted relentlessness.

As the DVD made its way through previews, Cas pulled Dean in to face him. "The only one you will need to impress in my family is me, Dean. And your first impression was amazing."

He looked intensely into Dean's deep verdant eyes and willed that truth to make itself clear before leaning in and taking Dean's lips.

To say that Dean was caught off guard would have been a gross understatement. He let out a surprised grunt and stilled marginally against Cas' mouth. It wasn't just the kiss that threw him off; it was the fact that Cas had brought up the previously tabled topic of his family and immediately put it off limits again. Dean could understand that it was a sensitive subject just by looking at Cas' face, but he could not understand why. And he had every intention of finding out the reason, one way or another... Cas was just suddenly making it very hard for him to keep that intention at the forefront of his mind and to be able to form it into some sort of coherent question.

The press of Cas' mouth quickly became insistent and rough, and when Cas swung his leg up and over Dean's hips, straddling him on the deep, plush couch, all thought vanished from Dean's brain, coherent or otherwise, and all he could do was grasp Cas' thighs and hold on.

He could feel need wafting off of Cas' body like a scent but it was a greedy and demanding need this time. The mewling Cas that called his name last week was replaced with the hard Cas he'd glimpsed briefly at Bobby's. Oh boy, was he going to enjoy this.

Cas slipped his hand into Dean's hair and pulled his head back, running his tongue along the line of his throat, tracing a wet trail that ended just under his ear. He took the soft skin between his teeth and applied enough pressure to make Dean gasp. Cas had let himself be swayed one way or another for so long and now he wanted to call the shots for a change.

Dean's grip slipped up to his hips and tightened down hard enough to bruise as he pulled his head to the left, searching for Cas’ lips. Cas bared his teeth again and scraped a bite across his shoulder causing Dean to buck his hips up with a surprised groan.

Cas felt Dean turn his head and lean forward for a kiss but he fisted his fingers deeper in the dusky strands and kept him back. Dean tried a few more times to land Cas’ lips and felt the rush of pleasure with each hard tug on the short hair near the back of his head, denying him access. Cas might was well be jerking his dick as much as his hair for as completely fucking aroused it was making him.

It was pretty obvious from Cas’ dominant moves that he wanted to command the situation Dean suddenly found himself in. And so he let go of his own self-restraint, giving up his control to Cas with a level of trust he hadn’t been sure he was really capable of. He bared his neck more for Cas’ teeth, knowing that the reddened welts and bruises left there would be worn with pride until they disappeared back into his skin. His cock became more and more engorged with each stinging bite and he rolled his hips up against Cas, seeking a firmer friction for his, as of yet, neglected member.

Cas pulled dean's pliant arms over his head, holding them there by the wrists, and ground his hips down letting the sensitive space between his balls and his hole press hard against dean's cock rocking into the sensation. Then he pulled his hips back easing the pressure to just a flutter. He teased this way for several strokes, letting his clothes covered dick ghost a soft brush against Dean's length, denying them both the desired friction. Cas watched Dean's face darken as he leaned in for another evaded kiss.

A teasing smirk pulled at Cas' mouth as his tongue darted out to swipe Dean's lips. When Dean tried to pull his arms down and found he couldn't, something raced over his face but was gone before Cas could place it - worry perhaps? Cas thought of the tattoo on Dean's chest and changed tactics.

He slipped his hands from Dean's wrists to his palms and was rewarded with a tight squeeze. Holding hands for leverage, Cas leaned way back and ground down hard, feeling his ass cheeks part through his clothes. Even through the thick denim, Dean's shaft rubbed just right against his back entrance and he wiggled making his intention clear. Cas would dominate, but only as much as Dean could manage.

Abruptly, Cas jumped off of Dean's lap and pulled him from the living room.

"What are you doing?" asked Dean, palming himself through his jeans.

Cas stepped in close and pressed himself against Dean body. "Don't ask stupid questions," he whispered, "I'm going to ride you until you scream."

Dean swallowed thickly and launched himself off the couch in one fluid movement. He didn't have to be told twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments. We are so excited that you guys love this as much as we do. Just a note though, we may be a few days late with the next chapter as one of us deals with a family emergency. Once that is clear up it will be fluff and smutt as usual.
> 
> Love  
> A


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice, long chapter for our loyal readers as a 'thank you' for sticking with us over our little break. Enjoy, lovelies ^_^

Dean followed Cas back through a short hallway, his heart pounding like a goddamn jackhammer as he watched Cas sway his hips seductively. He wrenched his t-shirt up over his head as they entered what must be Cas' bedroom, feeling just a fleeting touch of the anxiety he'd experienced back on the couch when Cas had bound his wrists above his head. There was no denying he was aroused beyond all belief, but it had been a long time since Dean had submitted to someone. The last time had ended so badly that he had a difficult time letting go of his hard won control.

He shook his head roughly to get his mind to focus on the present before those dark memories pulled him under and he plastered a sexy grin on his face when Cas turned to face him as he reached the bed in Cas' room. He wanted this; hungered for this with Cas, whom he had known for such a short time but felt such an incredible connection.

Dean let himself be pushed back onto the soft mattress, leaning up on his elbows. He started to unbuckle his own belt but Cas swatted his hands away. “I’ll take care of you, Dean.” Castiel rasped. “I want to.”

As Cas slowly undid the buttons of his own shirt, he let his eyes feed on Dean’s body again. The swell of his shoulders, marked now from his bites, the hard plane of his chest with its dark tattoo and his stomach muscles pulsing with each breath made Cas’ mouth water. He tossed his shirt to the floor with Dean’s and knelt down between his legs. He took his time unfastening the belt, rubbing his face against the bulge and breathing hot air against the fly. He felt Dean relax again and let his elbows fall. He tugged the denim down past his knees then ankles and then off and onto the pile.

Cas ran his tongue over Dean’s cock, this time encased in navy blue briefs, and felt it jump with excitement. Dean’s hands came down and sifted through Cas’ dark hair only to be swatted away again.

“No touching, Dean,” Cas growled with a smile. “Tonight you are mine for the taking.” He heard Dean suck in a breath and smiled with pride. He could talk dirty too, he thought.

He grabbed one of Dean’s feet and placed it on the edge of the bed. There was hesitation in Dean’s movement but he complied, letting his legs be spread wide. Cas pulled the navy briefs to one side and laved the underside of Dean balls, nuzzling and nibbling as he went. Again Dean sighed and relaxed into Cas’s touch. Cas fingers pumping him through his briefs were a delicious torture and his free hand hugged around his thigh. Dean balled his useless hands into fists and then gripped the comforter for relief. Cas was teasing him as effectively as he had teased last week. Dammit, Cas! Dean thought with a strained chuckle.

Cas brought his head up briefly, a wicked smile at his lips.  "Something funny, Dean?" he asked, stilling in his movements over Dean's cock.

Dean groaned at the loss of those rubbing strokes and craned his neck up to look at Cas, a pleading but feisty look in his eyes. "You're such a fucking tease," Dean answered on a nearly humorless shudder of breath.

Cas rumbled out a deep sound of agreement and nodded solemnly, "True, " he said, "But I already told you that you're mine for the taking and I want to take you in the way that will make both of us feel amazing. Now, do as you're told and lay back."

An unreadable expression flashed across Dean's face, but was gone before Cas could process it. He laid back on the bed without another word.

There it was again, that phrase, “Mine for the taking.” Dean gulped back a protest and tried to enjoy Cas’ tongue on his body. His hands seemed to be on every inch of him at once and his scruff against the inside of his thigh sent goosebumps racing down his leg. The fingertips left a trail of fire in their wake and he moaned into the pain of fingernails grazing his skin. He shifted his hips up encouraging Cas’ mouth to explore and suckle and taste.

It was when those searching fingertips scraped below his sac that he tensed again. How long had it been since he’d traded places? He knew exactly how long. His mouth pressed into a thin line and he pulled his hips back away from Cas’ fingers. He heard Cas’ disapproving tut and felt his hips being dragged back into place. Cas’ ran his hand along the back of Dean’s thigh again and blew a puff of warm air against bare skin before following it with his tongue.

_Get a grip Dean,_ he thought to himself harshly, _don’t be a hypocrite - Cas took it and so can you_. Dean liked everything he was feeling and his body liked everything it was feeling; so why wouldn’t his mind cooperate?

Cas could feel Dean tensing under his ministrations - the buck of his hips, the hard swallow and then Dean pulling away from the too intense pleasure. He must be doing something right, he thought and grazed his fingers along Dean’s tight hole.

“S- Stop,” came Dean’s voice. Cas pulled back and looked up at Dean’s face. That wasn’t mind numbing pleasure contouring his beautiful face. It was almost complete panic.

"Dean?" Cas asked, alarm squeezing his heart painfully, and he drew his hands away, holding them up as in surrender.  "Dean, what's wrong?"

Dean laid still on the bed, covering his eyes with the heels of his hands and bringing his knees together. “It's nothin', man," Dean said with a wobbly chuckle.

Cas drew himself up and sat beside Dean on the bed, but carefully kept his hands in his lap. "It's not nothing," he broached softly. "I didn't mean to push you into something you didn't want to do." Cas had never had any inclination that he was taking things too far, and wasn't even sure what he had done to cross the line, but whatever it was, it was clear that he hadn't been reading Dean's comfort level as well as he'd thought.

Dean pulled in a couple shaky breaths, his naked chest stuttering up and down, and he rubbed his hands roughly across his eyes but kept them covering his face. " It's not you, Cas," he finally said. "It's me.

Cas was quiet for a few moments before Dean sat himself up and let out apologetic laugh. He rubbed his face again and this time Cas pulled his hands away.

Dean allowed Cas to tug his hands down but kept his eyes cast to the side. He couldn’t get himself to look into those sympathetic eyes; couldn’t stomach the pity that would surely shine through.

“Dean,” Cas asked delicately, “did someone hurt you?”

“What?” Dean looked indignant at the question. “No, it’s nothing like that,” he answered sharply and guilt instantly washed over him at his own tone.

Cas ducked his head and waited for Dean to speak again. He was no stranger to yelling and he knew the difference between anger and self-defense.

“I uh,” Dean started, “I haven’t had great luck being on that side. I kind of suck at it.” Dean rubbed his forehead and sighed. “I just kind of panicked, ya know. I mean, what if you try really hard to get me going and I … I… can’t?”

Castiel studied Dean for a long moment, carefully turning the evening over in his head. Dean had as much to hide as he did, but that didn’t scare Cas the way he expected. Instead he felt a deep camaraderie well up in his chest.

He reached out and touched the tattoo marking the left side of Dean’s chest, just over his heart. Dean’s flinch at his touch made him clench his jaw in anger. For the first time ever, Cas felt a need to protect someone other than himself. As much as he felt safe with Dean, he wanted that same level of security for Dean as well.

He leaned forward and nuzzled Dean’s nose with his own. “Let’s make a deal, Dean. I’ll be ready to tell you about my family when you are ready to tell me about this tattoo. Sound fair?"

Dean placed his hand over Cas’ and squeezed.

“That’s a deal,” he said, and smiled. “I can’t say it’s gonna happen right away, though,” he added softly, uncharacteristically bashful.

“I’ll never push you to do anything you don’t want to,” Cas replied earnestly. “We’ll just take things slow, okay?”

Dean gifted Cas with that beautiful smile of his, green eyes looking up to lock on with an undeniable gratefulness, and Cas felt his chest tighten inexplicably. He cleared his throat and stood up from the bed with a sudden spark of inspiration. He dug through the drawer in his nightstand and pulled out a few condoms and small bottle.

“How does a bath sound?” he asked, holding his hand out.

Dean took the offered hand but looked skeptical. “Shower sex is complicated.”

Cas led him into the bathroom and laughed when Dean got a look at the tub. “I said a bath, Dean, not a shower.”

The house was warm but the bathroom was decadent. The roman tub stood on percaline feet in one corner of the large room. The matching vanity and sink faced the tub with a wall length mirror framed with etched leaves.

Dean picked his chin up off the floor to ask, “How does a house like this have a bathroom worthy of Charlemagne?”

Castiel set the condoms and the bottle down next to the tap, turned the knob for the hot, let the water run over his palm and then turned the cold to adjust the heat. “Meg has made several renovations to this house starting with the bathroom. She insists that a woman needs her luxuries.”

Dean stepped up to the (easily) three-person tub and ran his hand along the edge. “Do I want to know what she does with such a huge tub?” He chuckled as he spoke and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear.

"It's best not to think about, " Cas answered with a low laugh. He looked over just in time to see Dean pull the cotton briefs down over the luscious curve of his ass and immediately felt his mouth go dry.  

He stood after the water was flowing at a suitable temperature, swallowing thickly as he came to stand before Dean. He looked up at him, seeing just a thin ring of emerald around the blackness of his pupils in the low light, and brought his hands up to clasp gently around the back of Dean’s neck and brush his thumbs along the underside of his stubbled jaw.

“Let me take care of you,” he requested in a rough whisper.

Dean nodded haltingly, but accepted the kiss Cas offered up to him with no hesitation, opening his mouth easily to the slow slide of Cas’ tongue against the seam of his lips.

Cas tugged him gently to the tub and they both stepped in. The water was at mid-calf and warm as Cas pulled them both down to their knees. He grabbed the plush washcloth and soaked it in the water between them. Dean’s eyes darkened as he realized what Castiel meant to do.

Dean’s hands wandered over Cas’ shoulders and chest as the latter squeezed the washcloth letting the water cascade over his head and shoulders, the moisture glistening in the soft light. Dean cupped his hands and followed suit watching the water trail down Cas’ stomach catching in the patch of dark hair below his navel.

Again Cas squeezed the water over Dean’s head but then caressed his cheek through the rough cloth. He drew small circles around his neck, over his shoulders and across his chest. Dipping the cloth again, he pulled Dean’s arms overhead but left them standing on their own. He wanted to Dean to submit to him as he had submitted. He would only get that trust through kindness. Gone were the swatting hands and rough hair pulls. They would get back to that eventually; possibly later tonight. But right now, Castiel just wanted to worship this man.

He repeated the steps, soaking the cloth, wiping skin, but accentuated each turn with a nibble to soft, wet flesh. His small circles inched down each arm, over shuttering ribs and across flat abdomen. Dean lowered his arms and wrapped them around Cas has he pressed their moist bodies together reaching behind Dean to scrub his back. Dean imitated him again splashing water onto Cas’ back and massaging his own circles. His exploring fingers trailed down the swell of Cas’ ass and Cas fingers twinned into the short hairs at the base of Dean’s neck.

Dean shuddered under Cas' touch, feeling more acceptance and understanding and tenderness then than he'd felt the whole of his life. The shame and apprehension he had felt only moments earlier in Cas' bed melted away in a great turbulent rush and he sank back on his heels in the water, grasping desperately at Cas, needing to feel the reassurance of his skin against his own.

Dean was a broken man, a fact he knew well. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to pull himself back into any semblance of whole, but he knew that if the closest he'd get to feeling that unobtainable completion was in Cas' arms, he'd take as much as he could.

He tightened his embrace around Cas' back, their skin slipping together in a frictionless slide. Dean's cock, suddenly achingly erect, pressed insistently against Cas' belly under the warm water and he groaned into Cas' open mouth when he laid his lips against Cas' in a messy, needful kiss.

They both laughed quietly when Dean slipped and fell back on his ass, pulling Cas down with him. They ignored the water sloshing over the side of the tub as their needy kisses warmed into passionate play. Dean’s tongue drew the line of Cas’ lips and the he tugged his lip out, worrying the plump flesh with his teeth. Cas sighed again as Dean pushed him back gently to dawdle kisses along his collarbone and down his chest. He let his head fall back when Dean took an inch of skin into his mouth suckling a mark next to his nipple. The pain of the kiss sent a shiver down his belly and into his erection. He suddenly needed friction.

Cas pressed his hips forward and let his cock slide against Dean’s chest. Dean let out a groan of his own and pushed back up to his knees, finally reaching for the soap. Dipping the soap in the water first, Dean grabbed both erections in his soapy palms, rubbing and tugging them together in a pulsating rhythm. Cas grabbed Dean’s shoulders to steady himself as a wave of sudden pleasure washed over him sending heat radiating out from his groin to his limbs.

He gasped harshly at the rough but desperately needed touch, bucking up into the tight channel of Dean's fist, feeling each ridge and hard edge of Dean's dick as it dragged along his own. There was no way he'd be able to hold on much longer at the rate they were going.

"Dean," he rasped urgently,  "Dean, I need you inside me. _Please_."

Dean groaned shamelessly, bringing his mouth down to bite into the hard muscle of Cas' shoulder to keep himself from crying out. He snaked one hand down Cas' slippery back, sliding his fingers between the slick cleft of Cas' ass, circling around Cas' hole. Christ, he was so _tight_. Why hadn't he thought to start preparing that sweet entrance before he had gone nearly senseless with need? He already felt so fucking close to the edge as it was and he didn't know how much longer he could hold back.

“ Cas, you're not... I can't..." his words tumbled from his mouth in a tangled rush.

“Please, Dean,” Cas moaned again, his hand on Dean’s wrist to stop his heated strokes. “I can take it. I promise.”

With a jerky motion, Cas maneuvered them both up and splashed water to rinse away the soap, his need making him frantic. His kiss was hard and deep and suckling before he turned, bending to grab the condoms and the bottle.

Dean’s hands raced over Cas’ ribs and back, pulling his hips and rubbing Cas’ clenched hole against his own hard length. Pulling Cas upright and crushing him chest to back, he needed to feel every inch of Cas’ body to his own, the rush of lust now taking control.

Cas rolled his hips and felt a shiver pass from Dean to him as the first ounce of pleasure seeped into his body. He was ready now and leaned forward, bracing himself against the tub to prove it so. Quickly, Dean rolled the condom on and let the lubricant dribble down Cas’ waiting passage, watching raptly as it puckered under the cold liquid. Seeing beautiful, sweet Cas bent over, offering himself for Dean’s pleasure, was almost more than he could bear.

Watching Cas slip one finger inside himself made his dick weep inside the condom.  He ground his teeth and lined himself up, anticipation of the tight warmth that awaited him sending another shiver through him, but still he hesitated, knowing that he should try to push in slowly.

Cas had other ideas entirely and pushed back against Dean’s shaft, sinking him balls deep in one swift movement. Without waiting to adjust, Cas began to move, throwing his head back and gasping at the crushing pleasure that swept through his body. His own cock bobbing in time to his movements, Cas squeezed his muscles, milking all that he desired from Dean.

Dean keened sharply, his back bowing against the tremendous constriction enveloping his cock, and he fumbled his hands against the slippery skin of Cas’ hips for leverage. His breath heaved out of his lungs in a harsh pant and he pounded forward, quickly finding the rhythm that his body demanded. He looked down in awe at Cas’ graceful back, watching the steam that curled up from his moist skin, casting his eyes lower still to the place of their joining. A fresh wave of arousal crested over him as he watched his straining cock sink in and out of Cas’ tightly stretched hole.

“Oh god, Cas. Baby, you look so good like this,” Dean gasped.

And then words failed him altogether as he watched Cas reach a hand under himself to stroke his neglected dick. A filthy moan sifted from Cas’ lips as he began pumping his fist, the wide cords of his back muscles bunching under the motions. A thin slip of coherent thought suddenly filtered into Dean’s lust-fogged brain and he tried reaching his hand down to be able to give Cas at least a little of the pleasure Cas was giving him. But the angle was all wrong in the tub and he nearly tipped them both back into the water splashing around them. He quickly brought his hand back to Cas’ hip and began plunging in with deeper, angled thrusts to more effectively hit Cas’ prostate.

Slipping again, Dean sat on the edge of the tub pulling Cas down onto his lap. Feeling the extra intrusion, Cas cried out in pleasure and pain. Throwing his legs to either side of Dean’s, Cas used his knees for leverage and arched his back, bouncing wildly on Dean’s cock, searching desperately for his release.

Dean brought his forehead down to rest between Cas’ shoulderblades. “So close,” Dean grunted against Cas’ back, his hands reaching for Cas’ member again.

Cas shuddered violently at the feel of Dean’s breath hot and humid against his skin and he ground down harder on Dean’s lap.

“Fuck me, Cas,” Dean commanded as he gripped Cas’ dripping dick. He pumped hard, like he knew a man would want, like Cas would want, like he himself would want. The muscles that enveloped him constricted at the command and Dean felt himself barrel over the edge of orgasm following just after Cas, his cock buried deep in his lover’s ass with the man’s spurting and spent cock in his hand. Dean’s name in Castiel’s voice echoed off of the bathroom walls like a gong, the vibrations ringing back to kiss their sweat damp skin.

Gasping for air, they sat together on the edge of the tub, Cas pressed to Dean’s chest, Dean’s arms around Cas’ waist.

“Thank you, Castiel,” Dean whispered breathlessly against the back of his neck. He nuzzled his soaked hair and smacked a wet kiss to the nape.

Castiel shivered and let himself slide off of Dean’s lap and back into the cooled water. He pulled the stopper and turned the taps again, both hot and cold, looking up at Dean still sitting on the side of the tub, his eyes depthless oceans of blue.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas corrected. “Thank you for … for just…”

“I know, buddy,” Dean replied, sliding back into the refilling water after discarding the condom.

He slipped closer to Cas, pulling him back up against him in the huge tub, tracing lazy circles across Cas’ bare chest when he settled between Dean’s legs and they both had a chance to catch their breath.

Cas chuckled low in his throat. “You know, huh?”  

Dean felt a tightness squeeze warmly at his heart and he nodded against the back of Cas’ neck, drawing his arms taughtly around Cas’ middle. The understanding and unadulterated tenderness behind the frantic lovemaking that had just passed between them was undeniable, the depth of Cas’ compassion palpable.

Pulling out of Dean’s arms, Cas settled himself against the opposite side of the tub, his legs draped over Dean’s in the slowly dripping water. He leaned forward to hold Dean’s hand, bringing the calloused palm of it to his lips.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas began, “for trusting me. For letting me take care of you.”

Cas watched the expressions dance across Dean’s face - surprise, embarrassment, amusement and finally acceptance. Dean smiled slyly again and brought their paired hands to his lips as Cas had done.

Pulling Cas to him again, Dean spoke, his voice barely an octave above a whisper, “I know.” He widened his smile and pressed his forehead to Cas’, letting his eyes slip closed, “I know.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning dawned cold against a mid-November frost with the brittle branches of the recently bared trees scrabbling hollowly at the crisp blue sky above them. A deceptively warm shaft of autumn light fell through the blinds in the window of Cas’ bedroom, laying right across his face, irritatingly pulling him from sleep.

He blinked his eyes open carefully, trying to shield them from the glaring sunbeam with his hands as he sat up. He arched his back in a hearty stretch, trying to clear away the cobwebs of sleep from his mind and suddenly felt a dull ache throb in his ass with the movement. The tired haze fell away quickly as the events of last night flooded in, leaving him with a satisfied smile curving at his lips; the evening had not ended with his time spent with Dean in the bath - and had not even ended with Dean taking him against his bedroom wall in a carnal rush of frenzied pleasure. It had all lead to Dean spooning against Cas’ back in the center of his plush mattress, taking Cas apart with a careful precision that even now left him with a warmth that spread through his chest all the way down to his belly and traveled lower. The scorching memories, still so fresh in Cas’ mind, lent to him a rapidly plumping case of morning wood and he moaned with another stretch. 

Dean must’ve been reading Cas’ thoughts somehow because Cas suddenly felt strong arms wrap around his middle from behind, pulling him down to the bed. 

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean rasped against Cas neck, his voice sleep-rough and endlessly sexy. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

Cas indulged his memory a moment longer before allowing his smile to turn thoughtful. “I’m debating as to which position brought the most pleasure.” He rolled himself over in Dean’s arms slipping his hand between them, caressing Dean gently as he continued.

“I recall that the tub was quite eventful, but your best work may be as of yet unknown.” Cas gave Dean a soft tug and rubbed his stubbled chin against his chest as he snickered.

Dean’s answering swat to his ass was met with a yelp and a laugh that sang into the room. “You better be impressed, buddy. I may punish you if you keep that ungrateful attitude,” Dean let out a chuckle of his own and nipped at Cas’ ear. “That was some damn fine work.”

“Promises, promises,” Cas replied in a sing-song voice. He let his hands frolic over Dean’s growing hardness and took his own bites of skin. As Dean's rough hands surveyed his back, Cas let out a puff of breath against the dark tattoo before licking and biting again. He could spend the entire morning tangled in legs, arms, covers and … Cas stopped himself before the “L” word popped into his head.  Get a grip, Castiel , he chided himself. 

As if to validate the need to slow down, loud knocking on the front door floated down the hall. They both stopped exploring hands and turned to face the cracked bedroom door. 

“Did Meg lock herself out?” Dean asked.

“No,” Cas replied, “she was staying at Charlie’s last night and won’t be home until later.” 

The knock came again followed by the doorbell. The guest was insistent but neither man wanted to leave the comfort of the bed to answer. 

“Maybe if we ignore it, they’ll leave,” Dean whispered, dipping his head to lick Cas’ shoulder. ”Besides, it’s probably a Jehovah's Witness or something.” He snorted at this own joke and returned to nibbling.

“Castiel!” a voice from the front door called out. “I know you are in there, my dear boy. Do not make me bust the door down.”

Both men sat up in bed. Dean turned a disbelieving look to Cas who was covering his embarrassed face with his hands. Dean opened his mouth to question, then closed it before turning his eyes to the ceiling. Jealousy burned deep in his belly for a moment as he clenched his jaw and growled.

“What the fuck is that?” he asked calmly. He would not jump to conclusions.

“Dean, I have several brothers,” Cas began reluctantly, “all of which feel the need to drop in whenever the desire strikes them.” He hurriedly scrambled from the bed and grabbed a pair of shorts from a drawer. 

“That’s your brother?” Dean asked incredulously. “Why is he British?”

Without answering, Cas made his way down the hall to the front door. Dean pulled his jeans on and followed Cas, stopping at the kitchen archway where he leaned and waited.

When Cas opened the door, a handsome blond man swept into the room. He was dressed well, a dark sport coat over a purple tee and black slacks. He looked Cas over, taking in his bare feet and shorts then swept his gaze to Dean and his bare chest.

“My goodness, brother,” the blond intoned, “Why didn’t you mention you were entertaining.”

Dean’s mouth fell open. Either this man really was Castiel’s brother or was the most forgiving cockled lover ever. 

Dean turned to Cas, gestured to the blond with his thumb and spoke, “He’s your brother? But… why is he British?”

With familiar narrowed eyes, the guest turned to Castiel, “When did your preference turn to neanderthals, Castiel, really?” He tutted at Cas and again turned an appraising eye on Dean. “Is he always this articulate?”

“Hey,” Dean objected and stepped into the stranger's space. Cas shoved himself between them and huffed with impatience.

“Balthazar, please be nice,” Cas chidded. Dean knew it was immature but the smirk took over his face before he could really reign it in. “Dean, you must forgive my brother. He is quite protective and likes to push buttons, but he means well.” 

“Do not lie to the poor man, Castiel,” Balthazar tutted again, mischief sparkling in Balthazar’s eyes. “I do  not  mean well and I am incredibly selfish. He may think I am a darling if you speak so kindly of me.”

Cas rolled his eyes at Balthazar’s characteristically dramatic self-depreciation but felt a grin pulling at his mouth.

A smile brightened his face as he held out his hand to Dean and introduced himself, “Balthazar Novak at your service. And by at your service, I mean I will delegate what you request to my darling Castiel.” He winked and chuckled but took Dean’s hand for a firm handshake. 

Dean stood, mouth agape, as Cas’ brother continued to shake his hand. He was still trying to come to terms with the fact that this sudden intruder was Cas’  brother. 

He narrowed his eyes and pulled his hand back from him, still feeling a touch of that unwanted edginess twist his stomach. “Why is he  British? ” he asked again, not entirely convinced this intruder was related at all to the dark haired, deep-voiced man at his side that he had fallen in… that he had just been in bed with. He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet, never breaking his narrowed gaze on the blonde before him. 

Balthazar drew his hand back slowly, amusement skimming across his features in a graceful pass. "Quite interesting, " he said softly. 

Cas stepped between them again, feeling that the tension was about to come to blows.

Balthazar had always been the free spirit of the family, somehow indulging in decadent behaviour without incurring the disdain of the family. It was his charm, Castiel had decided long ago, that saved B from the ire of their father. It was his charm that would win Dean over now.

Balthazar walked as he talked, making his way into the kitchen digging through cabinets to prepare coffee. Dean and Cas trailed behind like dutiful ducklings, one listening with a cynical ear, the other with amusement.

“If you are referring to the accent, I insisted on a European boarding school when I was a teenager. I suppose more than one thing rubbed off on me over the years” He smirked as he pulled the coffee machine to the edge of the counter. “Have you seen the exquisite female delicacies they produce over there?” he hummed in appreciation of a memory and continued. “Boarding school in London, university in Paris and summers in Germany. I haven’t had an American woman in ages but I am determined to retain one now.” Balthazar turned with two steaming mugs and handed them off to his ducklings. “Castiel is helping me, didn’t he tell you?” 

Dean was in awe for a moment as he took his mug dumbly, his mouth still hanging open. Did Balthazar really spend his entire life in Europe just to chase women? And he was good at it? Wow this guy was awesome.

“I am not helping you, B,” Cas corrected blandly. “Meg is here and she is not interested.” He pulled creamer out of the fridge then took a seat at the table and motioned for Balthazar to join him. 

“Pity that I missed her. Megan will sucumb to me yet, Brother,” Balthazar countered confidently. “I have a few new tricks I would like to try.” His wicked smile was turned to Dean in an effort to pull him into the conversation.

“He’s your brother?”

“Hmmm,” Balthazar, sniffed at Dean and turned back to Cas. “He’s pretty, that one, but not a lot going on upstairs.” 

Of all his brothers, Balthazar was his closest friend and ally. He stood against the family countless times defending Castiel’s right to live his life as he saw fit. It almost brought the brothers to blows on more than one occasion but his loyalty was unbreakable. For that Castiel was beyond grateful. That Cas found Balthazar’s charm and eloquence maddening was an understatement. They were brothers after all. 

“Dean, Balthazar is my favorite brother,” he smiled warmly at Balthazar. “He is also the most infuriating. Well, Gabriel is the most infuriating but B is a close second.”

The brothers watched the wheels turn in Dean’s head as he processed all he had learned about Cas’ family in the last few moments. Castiel had two brothers with names as odd as his own. This one spent more time in Europe than here in the states and was determined to bed Meg. Were they all crazy?

He finally gave up and started to laugh. He clutched his stomach as the tension drained away and he bent over with giggles. If all of the Novaks were as entertaining as Balthazar, winning them over wouldn’t be so tough.

“I like you, Balthazar,” Dean declared setting his mug on the table. “You’re a bit of a dick, but I like you.” Dean ducked his head and kissed Cas gently before heading out of the kitchen. “Cas, I’m taking a shower. Enjoy your brother.” His snickers trailed after him as he made his way back down the hall.

Cas turned back to the table after he had watched Dean walk away to find B studying him with an unmasked expression of delight on his face. 

"What?" he asked cautiously, knowing B well enough to see that he was about to spring upon him like a hungry predator on its unsuspecting prey.

Balthazar sat back in his chair, casually bringing his mug up to his mouth. He looked at Cas over the rim thoughtfully as he took a sip. “ It's good to see you smile, love," was all he answered with. 

Cas nodded, his lips ticking up at the corner. He looked down at his own mug, running a finger down the handle. "But you didn't come all the way down here just to tell me that."

B set his cup down and laced his fingers together over the table top. "Well, not in so many words. Though I must admit, seeing you happy does wonders for this tired old heart." He smiled warmly before leaning forward toward Cas. “I've come to extend an invitation to Sunday dinner."

And there it was, the other shoe. Cas' mouth unconsciously fell into a scowl and his hands tightened around his mug. Balthazar dropped by or called nearly every week to try and convince Cas to make an appearance at their father's house for Sunday dinner, and every time Cas declined. Why B continued to ask boggled Cas' mind beyond all comprehension.  

“Please send my regards," he replied archly, "But I won't be attending."

It was then that Dean walked back into the room in a piquant cloud of fresh soap and clean skin, completely oblivious to the sudden strain in the kitchen. "Won't be attending what?" he asked with an easy smile. 

B's gaze flicked up to Dean standing behind Cas. "Our weekly Sunday dinner at our father's house," he answered amicably after a moment. 

Dean ran a hand through his still damp hair, his brows drawing together. "You don't wanna go, Cas? Why not?" 

Castiel's eyes narrowed into a disbelieving squint and he clenched his jaw. Why would B throw this out so casually? He was a conniving snake worthy of Luc’s praise at this moment. B meant well but his backing Cas into a corner was intolerable.

Sensing the sudden frost in the kitchen, Dean cleared his throat. “You know, Bobby has a Sunday dinner at his place every week. Ellen cooks and we all head over as a family. Sam brings his wife and we hang out.”

Without looking behind him, Cas answered quietly, “Dinners are not so pleasant in the Novak household.” 

Balthazar was unmoved by Castiel’s cold demeanor and shined his sunny visage at his brother. “Pish posh, darling Cas,” B admonished, “Father is not so pleasant, but the rest of us are wonderful.” 

Dean suddenly felt like an outsider in this conversation; he was missing something very important passing between these two odd men. He thought back to Cas’ reluctance to discuss his family and his suspicion that something was causing this large rift. He knelt down next to Cas’ chair and slipped the man’s soft hand into his own.

“It’s about the priest thing, isn’t it?” Dean asked gently. He turned Cas’ chin and met his eyes, finding a mixture of anger and embarrassment staring back at him. They sat in silence for several minutes, Dean and Balthazar each holding their breaths in anticipation of Cas’ reply.

It was B that broke the silence, “In a roundabout way,” he conceded and stood from the table. “Father does not appreciate a defiant son. Who does really?” He sighed and shooed Dean out of his way, pulling Cas up from the chair. “See me out, love.”

Cas stood, all too ready for Balthazar to just be gone. Out of all his brothers, B was the one that seemed to understand him the best. So why couldn't be understand that Cas didn't want to come to dinner and to just stop asking and let him be? 

He led B to the front door rigidly and stood dutifully as his brother turned to him and laid two airy European kisses to his cheeks. 

“It seems that perhaps you not alone in this after all,” Balthazar began nodding towards the kitchen. “Nothing has changed between us and I am your brother; I will overlook anything. Lord knows you always do the same for me.” His self deprecating smile didn’t reach his stormy blue eyes however, as he entreated, “The offer is always open, my dear Castiel. You know where to find us if you ever decide you'd like to stop by.”

Finally thawing, Cas gave a brisk nod and opened the door. In the end, his anger was not at B but at himself. 

"I know, Balthazar, I know. But ‘perhaps’ is the right word at the moment. I’m not quite sure if I can ask for more.” he murmured, sweeping his hand toward the threshold, “A pleasure as always.”

He turned after B left, suddenly feeling mentally exhausted, and ran a hand down his face. Dean was suddenly standing before him in the entryway, having moved soundlessly in his bare feet. Cas startled slightly and let out a weary sigh. "I apologize for that," he said, keeping his eyes cast to the floor. 

"There's nothing to apologize for, man.  Everyone's families are a little fucked up, " Dean replied with a soft snort. 

Cas looked up at him slowly. He knew Dean didn't understand the  depth of how fucked up his family really was. He was essentially an innocent in the ways of Novak manipulation and subterfuge.

"It's a little more complicated that that, Dean, " he said vaguely. He was still wary of divulging too much information about his family life to Dean; the pain and bitterness and anger there in that story was still too real, too close, for Cas to be able to put it into any form of an explanation without possibly running Dean off as a result. 

“That's the thing though, Cas. No matter how complicated it gets, family is still important. Sometimes it's all we got." He reached a hand up, cupping Cas' stubble rough cheek gently. "And you should make the most of the time you  do have with them, 'cause Christ knows they won't be around forever." A glimmer of regret flashed coldly in Dean's eyes, but was just as quickly doused - there and then gone. 

Cas nuzzled into Dean's touch still cradling his cheek. Was it possible to meld this new adventure with his archaic tribe of one-time loved ones? He knew the feeling growing in his heart was real and he dared not let it get away. Would Dean understand the importance of distancing himself from the taint that, like a familiar sweater, wrapped itself around him each time he crossed that threshold? Dean was right, he knew that, but was Cas ready to make those amends?

“I’ll try, Dean,” he finally conceded. 

“Close enough!” Dean crowed and pulled Cas in for a kiss.

**  
  
  
  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens! Thanks for reading our labor of love.
> 
> A


	9. Chapter 9

“Turn it now, Dean,” Bobby hollered, “If you burn my steak, I will tan your hide.” Bobby practically jogged over to the grill, reaching for the tongs as he moved.

“Back off, old man,” Dean retorted, keeping Bobby at bay with one hand and masterfully flipping the steaks with the other. “Let the master work.” As the juicy meat dripped onto the coals, flames popped up through the rack and swallowed the steaks for a moment before receding back into a temperamental holding pattern.

This was their usual Sunday routine: Ellen in the kitchen with the sliding glass door open, cooking the side dishes, while Bobby and Dean fought over control of the grill. If he had to man the main course on his day off too, then Dean was no good to Bobby at all. Everyone needs a day off and Dean always felt that Bobby deserved that day off more than anyone else.

Jo and Sam’s wife, Jessica, a beautiful blonde with a smile that lit Sam up like a rocket, were flipping through a fashion magazine together at the patio table oohing and ahing over the fall Homecoming collections. A curvaceous tomboy, Jo had waited to the last minute to pick a color but Jess was determined to get her squared before next weekend. Ellen was more than grateful since the feisty teenager seemed determined to do the opposite of whatever she was told to do. Damn but she couldn’t wait for Jo to finish adolescence. She was eighteen but still a rebel.

Sam crossed the patio to the grill, three beers in tow. He passed one to Bobby and Dean each before opening his own. He smirked as the two began to bicker over the steaks again and ran his hand through his long hair. It was past his ears again but he just couldn’t quite get himself to cut it just yet. He’d push it another week to see if the partners noticed.

“Sam,” Dean pleaded, “will you _please_ take Bobby away from the grill. There is only room for one chef on this patio.” Dean shooed Bobby away and watched Sam drag their grumpy father-figure down the patio steps and into the backyard. He was headed to the shed to grab the ball and mitts for a round of catch.

Dean looked around the gathering of friends and family and felt pride fill his chest. It had not always been this peaceful and mundane but they all had worked hard to get here. He would  treasure every minute and hoped to drag Cas to one of these dinners soon.

When Dean was four and Sam not yet crawling, their mother, Mary, died suddenly of cancer. The disease had followed her unseen for years and claimed her life before the little family could really process the diagnosis. Their father, John eventually found solace in the bottle and then sobriety with the help of 12 steps. That was where the John met Bobby Singer. Their mutual sorrow of a wife stolen so suddenly bonded them like brothers. It was Bobby that helped John climb out of that bottle.

Death was an unrelenting playmate for the Winchesters and their friends as Ellen’s husband was taken suddenly as well. His badge wasn’t able to protect him from a rogue bullet of a teenaged stickup artist. Her sports bar, a safe haven for reformed alcoholics, was closed for a week while she and Jo climbed out of the wreckage of a life taken so soon.

The last to fall was John himself. Dean remembered that night so vividly that it still brought him to tears some nights. Just after Dean’s eighteenth birthday, John was on the road again hauling concrete pipes to a construction site two states over. He was gone so often that Bobby actually set up a  bedroom at his house for the boys to share. The Atari, army men and coloring books eventually gave way to detailed car models and textbooks. John should have turned down the double load but he needed the money. He thought the extra zeros would be  worth the danger. He was wrong.

How they pulled themselves together after so much tragedy was beyond Dean to understand, but he would never question it. As Bobby and Ellen drifted together and the boys became permanent residents, their ragtag group of friends became a family. They were strong enough help Jo stay in school when her mourning took a violent turn; beating up boys twice her size was not the best outlet for her frustration. They were strong enough to see Sam through law school. They were even strong enough to pull Dean back to safety after he met Jacob.

_Family don’t end in blood, boy_. Bobby’s family motto bounced in his head as he flipped the steaks one more time. It was a motto he had come to live by and fully embrace. And how could he not? The people surrounding him, the people he loved the most, weren’t related to him in any genetic way at all, aside from Sam, but he felt as accepted by and connected to them than if they were his own biological family. They were the ones that protected him, that understood him - the ones that had cared for him when he had been at the absolute lowest point of his life.

And that was why he had urged Cas so strongly yesterday to try and repair those bridges that had so obviously been strained to the point of breaking. Because he knew exactly how important family was, how strong of a support system they could be. He also knew how empty that hollow pain left you feeling when losing those closest to you, especially if you hadn’t had a chance to tell them goodbye; life was too damn short not to make the most of the time you had. He hoped that Cas would come to understand the strength of the conviction he felt about it all.

Dean looked down at the burgers, suddenly brought back out of his musings by the slight smell of char, and quickly pulled them off the grill. He huffed out a low chuckle at the irony of it, knowing Bobby probably really would tan his hide when he saw that he had burned his steak, and walked back to the table in the middle of the patio.

***

Dean narrowed his eyes and tossed another five dollar chip into the pile. He and Bobby were the only players left in this round and he was not going to lose again. This was their third go at raising each other and Dean hated to admit that the little pile of chips was just that - little. He was holding a straight but Bobby was too cool to be bluffing. When he tossed another chip into the pile, Dean let out a groan and swore out loud, kicking off raucous laughter from Sam and Ellen.

They were on their fifth hand of poker and the deal had come back around to Dean. Jess was curled up in the recliner watching the game from across the room, rubbing her belly. She was just starting to show but was already fighting with swollen feet. Jo had left right after dinner for a movie with next week’s prom date. It was just the four of them tonight playing cards, but the trash talk was rolling hard as usual.

“You wanna call it, bub?” Bobby asked shrewdly and raised his brows at Dean.

“Alright then,” Dean countered, “let’s do this.” He laid his Straight out before him and gave Bobby a triumphant smile. “What ya got?”

Without batting an eye, Bobby put down his Full House and dragged the chips to his side of the table.

“Again?” Dean blurted, sending Sam and Ellen into another fit. “How are you even doing that?”

“That’s payback for my burnt steak, ya idjit,” Bobby groused.

“Dude,” Dean groused back, “You said that three hands ago.”

“I like to hold grudges, boy.”

Dean finally chuckled himself and stood up for a stretch and to refill his soda. They all switched to sodas after dinner for Bobby’s sake and, with refill requests in, he headed back to the kitchen for more cans. He stopped at his jacket to check his phone. He had texted Cas before the game, about an hour ago, as Ellen enforced a strict ‘no phones at the poker table’ rule. Cas’ curt reply made him smile as he set the cans on the table and sat down.

**[text] I am on my way to my father’s house. I will expect prompt repayment for this.**

“No phones at the table, Dean,” Ellen started but he finished his reply and dropped the phone under his chair.

“I know,” he held his hands up in surrender and then opened his can.

“Must be someone special and amazing if you’re willing to piss off Ellen, Dean,” Sam’s smug grin tugged the corner of his mouth up, but he kept dealing as if he hadn’t spoke a word.

Ellen’s face immediately lit up. “Someone special? Like who? Is it that nice man you brought in for burgers back on Halloween?” She relentlessly peppered Dean with questions as Sam looked on with a smirk.

Dean glared at his betraying brother beside him with a glance that held little heat. He looked back to Ellen when Sam only shrugged and began shuffling the deck. “Yes, and his name is Cas.”

Ellen’s grin widened. “So is he special and amazing like Sammy says?”

A blush burned across Dean’s cheeks and he glanced down to the hand Sam had just passed him. “Yes,” he said.

Ellen made a sound of delight and Bobby sighed deeply. “Dammit woman, would you leave the boy alone?”

Ellen rolled her eyes but kept the happy smile on her lips as Bobby continued with Ellen’s previous line of questioning, “And what does this _Cas_ do for a living?”

Dean studied his hand, noting that it wasn’t all that terrible, and looked back up. “He’s an accountant,” he answered, tapping his fingers against the table to check. “Now c’mon, what’s with all the questions?”

Ellen tossed a chip to middle of the table as she spoke, “It’s been a while since you’ve brought anyone by. We’d like to add another plate to the table.” She folded her cards together and turned to Bobby for his go.

“So did you decide if Cas has a last name?” Sam asked and then grimaced as Bobby raised Ellen double. He threw a dirty look at the bearded man and tossed matching chips into the pot.

Dean checked his hand again, tossed a matching bet and then huffed. “Novak,” he stated simply. He felt the entire table stop and look at him. “Yes,” he confirmed, “those Novaks.”

Three pairs of eyes stared at him like he’d grown a second head. He imagined that this was the face he’d given Cas yesterday but, hey, they asked so he answered.

Sam cleared his throat before breaking the silence. “I know Lucifer from the courthouse. He’s a piece of work.” Now three sets of eyes locked on Sam. Jess was snoring from the recliner and would hear about all of this later.

“What?” he shrugged, “they’re all named after angels.” Dean scrunched his nose in disbelief that he hadn’t exactly known that bit of information and Bobby just snorted.

“I thought his name was Luke,” Ellen said taking her turn to bet.

“It’s short for Lucifer. That’s why it’s spelled L-U-C and not L-U-K-E,” Sam informed, watching Bobby raise double again. Dammit, he was gonna clean them out tonight. Sam folded and then turned to Dean again.

“Well that explains that,” Dean mumbled. “I met his brother Balthazar today and heard about a Gabriel. Just wow.” He studied the pot for a moment, looked his hand over and folded as well. “Dammit, Bobby! Are you hiding cards over there?”

Ellen and Bobby faced off now and silence fell over the table. Ellen’s face had a gift for swaying between fierce predator to endearing mother with just a flash of smile. Bobby liked to hide behind his hat and occasional glasses. Both faces were illegible as the Winchesters watched the battle of wills unfolding before them.

Ellen cocked her head to the side and raised double. Without looking at his hand or chips, Bobby did the same. Ellen laid her cards face down and pushed all of her chips into the pot. Bobby clenched his jaw and moved his hand to his chips.

“Bobby Singer,” Ellen started, “if you do anything other than fold, I swear to the moon that you will get none tonight.” Bobby’s hand froze over his chips, an internal debate obviously bouncing around in his head.

“But it’s Sunday,” he whined.

“Don’t care,” Ellen said and pulled all the chips to her side of the table. “I can’t let you beat these boys six hands in row. It’s just not natural.”

Sam and Dean watched in horror as Bobby was firmly put in his place on their behalf before whooping and banging the table in celebration. The noise woke up Jess and marked the end of poker night.

Dean pushed back from the table with a wide grin, scooping his phone up from under the chair and settling it in his back pocket without sparing it a glance. He was too busy crossing over to the other side of the table to Ellen to give her a congratulatory hug. “He deserved to lose, don’t you let him tell you any different,” he murmured cheerfully as she squeezed him back.

“Oh he ain’t tellin’ me nothin’ about it tonight,” she said, pulling back from Dean and shooting him a wink. “You make sure n’ bring Cas around soon for dinner, okay? I’d sure like to meet him.”

Dean nodded dutifully, but felt a warm suredness bloom in his chest. He had already planned on bringing Cas by soon, but the fact that his family was excited to meet him made Dean feel all the more content.

Ellen passed Dean onto Bobby for their customary hug, complete with manly and hearty back-slaps. “You better watch it next week, boy. I’m not gonna go so easy on you,” he said, nodding over Dean’s shoulder to their makeshift poker table in the dining room.

Dean laughed outright. “Guess I’ll just have to step up my game then.”

Bobby cracked a smile, “That or just keep losing to me. It’s your choice.”

Dean pulled him back in for another hug, so happy in that moment just to be surrounded by people that legitimately cared for him. Bobby chuckled against his shoulder then pulled back, his face attempting to fall into a stern expression, but failing miserably.

“You better get your ass on the road, boy. You know how important a good night’s sleep is?” he asked, eyeing Dean with a frown that quickly gave way to a small smile.

“Yeah, yeah, old man,” Dean said, dismissively waving his hand goodnaturedly as he made his way into the living room. He embraced Jess gently and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek before grabbing his jacket and stepping out of the warm house into the frosty fall evening with Sam right behind him.

The moon was full, brightening the night with a cold, silvery glow and laying soft beams of pale light across the grass and trees in the front driveway. Dean walked up to his Baby, his booted feet crunching loudly in the gravel as he went. Sam joined him at the side of the Impala, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he watched Dean fish his keys out of his jacket.

Dean got his door unlocked, but turned to Sam before climbing in, leaning his back up against the driver’s side door panel. “You think Bobby might be cheating the deck somehow?” he asked jovially, a smile ticking up the corner of his mouth.

Sam shook his head and chuckled, sending up a puff of fog into the cold night air. “Dunno man,” he said. And then all of a sudden his expression turned somber.

Dean felt a knot twist in his stomach and knew what was coming next.

“Hey listen, uh I’m sure Cas is a really great guy. And I’m really happy for you,” Sam began, and Dean held his breath, waiting for the ‘but’ that Sam had lined up. “But you need to be really careful. I can’t watch you go through the same thing that happened with Jacob again, Dean -  I just can’t watch you get hurt.”

For all Dean knew that Sam was trying to protect him, he still felt a bitterness and unresolved anger well up inside his gut. Because what difference would it make? He had thought he was being careful when he met Jacob, had never once felt an inkling that something was completely, horribly wrong until it was too late. But with Cas it all felt so different, and in a way he couldn’t really explain, even to himself.

Dean pushed back up from the door, his brows knitting together. “I _am_ being careful, Sammy,” he said, his voice pitched low. And it was true. The only good thing to come from the pain he had experienced before was that it taught him how to better guard his heart, how to throw up those barriers to protect himself. He didn’t know if the damage that had been done already would ever be completely healed, but he at least had the capacity to prevent further heartbreak now.

Sam nodded, looking down at his shoes as he shuffled his feet in the dirt.  “Okay,” he said softly, “I just -”

Dean cut him off, a sigh huffing from his mouth in a quickly dissipating cloud, “I know, Sammy. Thank you.” He tugged Sam in for a tight hug, catching him off guard. He hadn’t even had time to pull his hands from his pockets.

“Sure thing, man,” Sam said warmly after Dean released him. “You drive careful, okay?”

Dean rolled his eyes and wrenched open his door. “Isn’t the big brother supposed to be the one looking after the little one?” he asked with a tight laugh.

Sam smiled and closed Dean into his car before jogging back to the house with a wave. Dean shook his head and chuckled softly, digging his phone out of his pocket to check his messages. His laughter quickly died away when he read what Cas had sent him almost forty-five minutes ago:

**[text] If you ever presume to tell me how important family is at any point in the future, I swear I will never speak to you again.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has commented, kudoed, bookmarked, and read our story! We are so happy everybody is enjoying it so much! Thanks for all your support, it really means a lot to us! ^_^


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a forewarning, dear readers: This chapter contains heavy tones of emotional abuse and homophobia. Please read with caution and understand that this was particularly difficult for us to write because of its subject matter.

The text Cas had sent Dean in the middle of his weekly poker game was typed as he sat in the driver’s seat of his car, still parked in his driveway, with his heart thudding nervously and his stomach churning. Dean had asked if Cas was still planning on having dinner with his family and Cas’ clipped reply:

**[text] I am on my way to my father’s house. I will expect prompt repayment for this.**

came as a direct result of Cas’ on-edge nerves. He understood where Dean was coming from; he knew that on some deeply buried level that family was important. They were the people that were supposed to know you the best, the people that would look out for you no matter what. But Cas had never had any substantial evidence from his own family that they were capable of behaving in such a way. And if Dean was going to make him do this, even if Cas wasn’t entirely sure that it wouldn’t end in a complete and utter disaster, then he expected some sort of reimbursement, hopefully in the form of an extra-long makeout session.

Cas let out a slow breath, trying to get himself back under control, and turned the keys in the ignition.The drive to his father’s house was about an hour long and arduous with the rush of early evening traffic and Cas felt his anxiety level reaching higher and higher the closer he got to his childhood home.

He thought back to his last few minutes before leaving. He'd ruined the knot in his navy blue silk tie three times before Meg finally intervened. The double Windsor was not his favorite, but Meg was determined to add the extra flare.

Dean’s answering text arrived as Cas pulled into his father's long driveway, and reading what he wrote sent a flush of heat burning straight down to Cas' gut. He thought that maybe this family dinner would all be worth it after all:

**[text] Whatever you want, baby. Just name it.**

As Cas pulled into his father's driveway, Meg's words echoed in his head. "Dean must be one hell of a fuck if it took him just a week to get you to agree to this." He'd frowned and let her ignore his admonition on the vulgarity of her statement. He would not let her know how right she was or that the man had certainly carved a place for himself in Cas' heart already.

He took a cleansing breath and stepped out of his car. He pulled his trench coat tighter against the cold breeze, dropped his keys in a pocket and made his way to the front door. He could do this. He could slip back into his position in the Novak Family Hierarchy. He did it before and he could do it again.

Standing at the large oak door, Cas brought up a trembling fist and rapped twice, hoping that maybe no one would hear him knocking and he could just go back home. But of course, he could never be that lucky.

The door swung open, spilling a warm, spuriously inviting light out onto the stoop, bracketing Cas’ brother, Gabriel, in an ethereal glow. A shocked expression flashed across Gabe’s face before immediately being replaced by a dazzling and wide grin.

“Casserole!” he shouted, overly bright. “What a surprise!”

Cas grimaced at the nickname, but nodded politely. “I hope I’m not imposing,” he said, “But Balthazar extended me an invitation yesterday.”

Gabe’s grin widened considerably, an impish gleam sparking in his golden-whiskey eyes, and Cas felt his stomach drop. “Well, yeah, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the first time he’s asked you over.” He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorjamb. “What made you change your mind?”

Cas’ shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly and settled his hands in the pockets of his trench coat, balling them to fists where Gabe couldn’t see. “I’ve decided that it’s important to take the measures necessary to try and mend the broken bridges between all of us that I was the cause of. I want to try and make things right.”

Gabe was quiet for a moment, studying Cas’ face intently, before he pushed away from the doorframe, flinging his arms wide. “Sounds good enough for me!” he shouted, pulling Cas in for an awkward hug.

Cas breathed out a relieved sigh as Gabe ushered him into the foyer, but knew that his older brothers would be the least of his worries. He could hear voices coming from the library; Luc and Balthazar for sure and Anna as well.

Cas removed his coat and hung it on the rack before following Gabe into the library with the others. The anxiety crawling over his skin eased slightly when only three faces turned to greet him. Of course Father was making them wait. All things in Father's time as usual.

He did not expect the welcome he received. All three faces turned as they entered and the conversation died. Balthazar smiled wearily as Anna rushed to Cas for an overdue embrace. Surprisingly, Lucifer was close on her heels and held Cas at arm’s length.

Tears filled Anna's eyes as she watched Luc's face melt into relief before holding his brother close. "Thought we lost you forever, Castiel."

Last came Balthazar and his knowing smile. "Thank you for coming, love." Cas felt most at home with B at his side. Perhaps this wouldn't be as horrible as expected.

The group murmured laughing endearments and gentle admonishments for missed phone calls and unreturned text messages. Unity flowed through the room and wrapped the siblings is a temporary bubble of camaraderie and affection.

But that thrill of harmony died quickly as Father's voice floated into the room, catching all of them off guard. "Ah, my prodigal son returns to us."

Cas could feel the group splinter as they parted to allow Father to greet his youngest son. Castiel held his breath, his hands shaking again as butterflies threatened to fly out of his mouth. Here was the moment he feared, the moment he was laid bare against his will and was at his utmost vulnerable.

Father's icy smile circled his loyal children, skipped Castiel and then he was gone, vanishing with the turn of a heel. The moment he shared with his siblings evaporated and, with it, Cas' hopes for a peaceful renewal. As the others followed their patriarch into the dining room, Cas squared his shoulders.

_Let the battle begin._

He made his way into the dining room and seated himself at his place at the table, the place he had sat nearly his whole life. The long table was just as he remembered it; a family heirloom table runner ran the length of it, with two candelabras lit with a bevy of tapered candles shining brightly into the wood paneled dining room situated precisely equidistant apart. The antique silverware and cutlery lining the table had been in the Novak family for decades and glinted sharply in the candlelight. Cas sighed as he sat, instantly bogged down in the suffocating nostalgic and pretentious feel of it all.

He glanced around the table as the waitstaff, after consulting Father, bustled around the dining room, obviously set to a frenzy at having to set an additional place for the unannounced guest. He tried to catch the eye of his brothers and sister, letting his gaze linger at each of them in an attempt to gauge their current feelings of him suddenly being there after he had been absent for so long.

Gabe gave him a minute twitch of his lips, Anna smiled at him outright, Balthazar gave him a gracious nod, and Lucifer grinned at him with a feral smirk that made Cas want to shrink down under the table.

But before he could even move an inch, a group of black clad waiters surrounded the table, setting a tumbler of gold liquid before each of them. Cas looked down at the glass, picking it up curiously and bringing it up to his nose. The harsh tang of cheap brandy burned in his nostrils and he drew it away, looking over at Father with a questioning glance. Cas knew that his father spared no expense when it came to liquor, knew that the cellar housed a collection of the finest, most expensive spirits from all over the world. So why the cheap cup of bottom shelf whiskey?

Father abruptly stood, holding his glass aloft, and everyone at the table followed suit, bringing up their tumblers but remaining seated. “I’d like to make a toast,” Father began, his deep voice resonating through the dining room. Cas hesitantly held his glass up, feeling a growing sense of unease settle like a stone in his stomach. “To my long lost son,” Father continued, smoothing a hand down his wide barrel chest, “who has been returned to the flock like a disobedient lamb who has learned the error of his ways, who has learned the value of a humble heart, and for whom I only desire the very best in life. To Castiel.” He brought the glass to his mouth, his eyes entreating the others to do the same, with a look that brooked no argument.

Cas looked to his family around him, watching as each of them adverted their gaze from him as they dutifully drank, and slowly brought his glass to his lips. His eyes settled on his father then, still standing at the head of the table, watching Castiel with a look of barely concealed contempt glittering in his deep blue eyes. Cas opened his mouth, letting the liquor pour in, and nearly choked on the repugnant bitterness of it burning down to his stomach like liquid fire.

He ran the back of his hand across his lips after he had swallowed it all, not daring to leave a drop behind lest he suffer anymore of Father’s wrath than was necessary, clearly understanding his father’s liquor choice for the toast. Of course it would be the cheapest, most disappointing brandy he could find. Of course it would be.

Cas set his glass down, trying desperately to keep Dean’s words in his head, to remind himself that family was important. He forced a tight smile to his mouth and thanked the waiter that set his food before him, feeling that if he could just get through dinner he could at least tell Dean that he did his best.

He looked down at his plate and felt his stomach churn again. It was as if Father knew he was coming as a plate of lamb chops was placed before each at the table. Across from him, Anna’s face paled and, beside him, Gabriel mouthed “he didn’t know” and gave a subtle negative shake of his head.  Only B seemed as disturbed by the meal as he was and stared at his plate for several seconds before finally picking up his fork.

A tense silence filled the space broken only by the quiet scraping of utensil to plate or muffled bump of glass to table. Cas felt the suffocation of anxiety close his throat and dropped his fork drawing the unwanted attention of the entire table. Across from Gabe, Balthazar cleared his throat, pulling the group to himself.

“Anna, darling,” he said, his voice much more cheerful than expected, “how is the annual food drive going?”

Clamoring for the opportunity to speak about her favorite charity, Anna immediately regaled to table with the first week’s progress and the goals set for this year. “If this excitement continues, we should almost double last year’s goal! Imagine how many more families we will feed this Thanksgiving,” she sighed almost wistfully.

Cas smiled at sweet Anna who always had such devotion for those less fortunate than herself.

“Isn’t it wonderful what can be accomplished if you just keep up the pursuit.” Cas jumped at Luc’s comment and shot narrowed eyes down to that end of the table. Luc sat at Father’s left and the empty chair to the right waited for Michael. “Don’t you think, Castiel?” B discreetly stepped on Luc’s foot who grimaced for a moment before his smile slithered back into place.

 _Viper_ , Cas thought again of his second oldest brother. He was loyal but only to whomever had the most to offer. At this moment, Cas was not that person. He suddenly wished Mike was home from the state capital. He sided with Father but at least he was gentle in his condemnation.

Gabe immediately filled the gap in conversation by praising Anna and then asking B about his art gallery.

“Years in Europe were not wasted,” B laughed, his charm a well honed defense mechanism. “Sales have steadily increased since I took over and we have attracted the attention of a new up-and-coming artist. We will host a show after the holidays.”

“Do tell, B old buddy,” Gabe interrupted, “is she a hot one?” He waggled his eyebrows making Anna giggle and even Luc smile. Father continued his meal as if there were no others at the table.

In his element now, B leaned forward to speak. “ _He_ is working on a collection of nudes at the moment. He claims to feel the need to display the beauty of skin in all colors and textures. He is using the same model but in several different poses and mediums.”

“Sounds like serious dedication,” Luc quipped and took a sip of his wine.

B frowned slightly but continued unimpeded. “The young man he is using as a model, an African American with albinism, was very shy at first but seems to have warmed to the idea of different versions of himself breaking old stereotypes. Quite a brave soul.”

“I’m sure our little lamb would enjoy that collection. Young men and variety are favorites of his, as I recall.”

The entire room, wait staff and siblings alike, turned to the head of the table and stared at Father in disbelief. They had each inherited a trait directly from him; Michael was gifted with persuasion, Luc with his venomous smile, Gabe received quick wit, Balthazar charm and Anna, her beautiful red hair. Castiel was cursed with his father’s frozen blue eyes.

The original blue eyes, hard as ice, danced with malicious amusement now as Father continued, leaning his elbows forward on the table to steeple his hands before his mouth imposingly, “Tell us, Castiel, what have you been up to since giving up on your reformation and penance?”

Cas swallowed thickly and cleared his throat, casting his eyes down to his plate. He had only ever wanted to please his father, to make him proud. It was a like he had been hardwired to take the abuse heaped upon him, to shoulder that burden with a quiet acceptance and still find it in himself to offer up an apology for his behavior, even when he had done nothing wrong.

But Father had always found so many things wrong in his youngest son, hadn’t he, as if he were aware of Castiel’s preference in the same sex before he became aware himself. And he never failed to make sure Cas knew exactly what the grievances were and how disappointed each one made him, with Cas’ leaving the church now residing at the very top of that list.

Cas picked up his fork again, licking his lips nervously as he answered Father’s question: “I was hired on as an accountant for Abram, Miller & Simmons, CPA. They recently entrusted me with their biggest account, Ravago Manufacturing. I moved into the corner office last week.”

Luc snorted out a snide laugh, and Cas immediately looked over at him, barely restraining himself from flinching back at the vindictive glint in Luc’s cobalt eyes. “You mean to tell me there’s a job that you’re devoted to? A job that you’re actually not planning on bailing out on? What an absolutely _miraculous_ concept!”

Father sat back in his chair as Luc spoke, the very picture of fatherly pride with his hands clasped over his chest, casting a barely concealed look of spite in Cas’ direction. Panic began to flood through Cas’ chest with each thrumming beat of his heart - he hadn’t expected this dinner to go smoothly, but he had thought that he might have gotten through it with maybe just a _little_ bit of his dignity intact. _Family is important, family is important_ ; he kept repeating Dean’s words like a crazed mantra in an effort to calm his wildly rampant nerves, but quickly found himself floundering.

He nodded haltingly at Luc’s words, once again accepting the harsh and unending chastisement for leaving the church and abandoning his vows. “Strangely enough,” he said with a weak laugh, “I’ve found that it is something I am good at.” He was good at his job. He was better than his father or brother gave him credit for. He was not the sniveling failure they painted him to be, right?

“I think that sounds promising, Cassie,” Balthazar began only to be cut off by Luc.

“You _would_ pile on the praise, Balthazar. Sometimes I wonder where your fealty lies.”

Gabe jumped in to the defense. With a tilt of his head and a smirk he began, “Luci,” Lucifer’s least favorite nickname, “be nice. You’re carrying a pretty big bag of dicks around you neck there, bro.”

Luc pursed his lips thoughtfully, “Perhaps I should pass one to Castiel. He seems to prefer their company to ours.”

Cas immediately paled, his stomach rolling in a sickened slide. "E - Excuse me?" he asked, hoping against hope that he had misunderstood Luc's meaning. If there was one thing he absolutely never wanted to bring up with his family again, it was his sexual orientation, especially since he knew how deeply it angered Father.

"Dicks, Cas. I said 'you prefer _dicks_ to the company of your own family'." He grinned cruelly and leaned forward, his voice dropping to a vicious whisper, "I am right, aren't I? I mean, just admit it, you would rather be indulging in your abhorrent and unnatural _lust_ right now than sitting here having dinner with your own family. Right?" Luc spat the words at Cas, earning a pleased nod from Father.

The words stung Cas as harshly as if he had been slapped and he felt all his breath leave his lungs in one strangled push. He quickly gained his feet, staggering back from the table roughly enough to nearly knock his chair back into the wall behind him. He heard Anna begin to cry and glanced over at Gabe and Balthazar, who looked as appalled as Cas felt. “I’m sorry,” he whispered brokenly. He opened his mouth wide against the tightness in his jaw and throat, coughed and tried again. “I’m sorry I’m not what you all wanted… not … I’m…”

He took another deep breath. "I - I apologize for ruining Sunday dinner," he rasped, and fled the room, unbearable shame and embarrassment suffocating him in a smothering squeeze. He could hear the arguing erupting between his brothers, the sound nearly drowning out Father’s last words for him, “We should have Castiel over more often. He is so entertaining.”

Cas grabbed his coat from the rack in the foyer blindly, throwing it on over his trembling shoulders and storming out of the house, somehow making it to his car without vomiting. He threw himself into the driver's seat, choking off a sob before it could make its way out of his throat, and fished his cell from his coat pocket. He didn't trust his voice not to break if he called Dean, but he needed him to know how completely wrong he had been.

Hurt and anger and heartbreaking anguish crested over Cas in a devastating wave, crushing him with its excruciating weight, and felt the first tear of many track down his cheek as he willed his fingers to stop trembling long enough to type out a text message:

**[text] If you ever presume to tell me how important family is at any point in the future, I swear I will never speak to you again.**

He tossed his phone into the passenger seat and growled when it bounced and fell on the floor, his emotions finally bursting forth with a violent attack on his steering wheel.  Gasping for breath and feeling mildly sated, he started his car, peeling out of the long, pretentiously manicured driveway without ever sparing a glance to his rearview mirror.


	11. Chapter 11

Cas loosened his tie as he merged back onto the expressway. His boiling rage was simmering into apathetic acceptance, but he knew it would eventually cool into bitter self-loathing. It always did.

The phone calls and text messages began about half way home and he was glad his cell was trapped on the passenger side floor. The insistent buzzing made the phone dance around and out of reach and he was in no mood to listen to eloquent apologies or lamentable pleas for second chances. He wanted to wallow in the self-destructive musing of his father’s rejection. Was he really such a loathsome creature that a father’s love would be forever unattainable? Could not all his years of self-imposed abstinence in the name of church and family be enough to make them see him for more than this one flaw, this one deviation?

When he finally pulled into his own driveway he considered taking the phone inside to be destroyed via hammer. His wallet voted against the idea, but he left it on the floor as punishment anyway and trudged to the front door.

He listened to Meg make her way down the hall towards him when he closed the door behind himself.

“That was quick. What, did you get there and then just turn right arou-” She stopped mid sentence, toothbrush in hand and sighed. He was pitiful standing in the foyer - trench coat as crooked as his tie, dark hair disheveled with eyes and nose red from crying. She opened her arms and beckoned him in for a hug.

“I’m so sorry, Clarence,” she mumbled against his shoulder. She rubbed his back to soothe him, but a knocking at the front door cut her short.

Dean's heart pounded with nervous apprehension as he laid his fist down on Cas' front door in a heavy and rapid succession. The last text Cas had sent him had immediately flooded him with worry, and the fact that Cas didn't answer any of his calls pushed that worry into a full-blown dread. He had driven over to Cas' house as quickly as he could, his damnably frantic brain conjuring up a multitude of scenarios that could have warranted a message like that, each one worse that the last, and by the time he was sprinting up the walkway he was sick with anxiety.

Cas finally opened the door after Dean had been pounding on it for a goddamn eternity, but did not step back to allow Dean entry. Dean could see that Cas' eyes were puffy and red, the blue ring of his irises a shocking shade of melancholy azure and Dean immediately felt his stomach drop.

“Cas, what happened?" he asked on a panted exhale, feeling a flare of anger suddenly ignite deep in his chest at Cas' family for so obviously hurting him.

Cas kept the door open only enough for Dean to see his face, hiding behind it like a wounded animal. “It's fine, Dean. You really didn't need to come all the way over here."

"The hell it's not _fine_ ,"  Dean shouted and instantly dropped his voice when he saw Cas flinch back from him. "You can't just leave someone a message like _this_ ," he held his phone up between them, "and then not answer when they try to fuckin’ call you! "

The anger Dean felt toward Cas' family and at himself for pushing Cas to have dinner with them mixed fluidly with his spiking adrenaline, transferring all that aggression directly onto Cas without Dean even realizing he was doing it. He pushed into Cas' house, ignoring his adamant protest: "Dean, please, I really don't want to burden you with this. I never should have sent you that text."

Dean turned to Cas who closed the door and sagged back against it, a study in closely guarded misery, and felt a surge of overprotectiveness tighten his chest painfully. His hands balled into fists and he brought a finger up, pointing it at Cas almost accusingly. "Cas, you tell me which of your pansy ass brothers did this to you and I swear to Christ I'll make sure they never hurt you again."

“Get your shit together, dumb ass, or I’ll stick my foot so far up your ass you’ll lick my toes for a week,” Meg’s throaty voice pulled Dean’s attention long enough for him to turn her way. Her hands were balled into fists too and her feet were planted, showing she was ready to pounce. He’d seen that stance on her once before, at the Hot Wheelz car show he had hosted last July. The man she gave it to walked home with a black eye, a broken nose and a healthy respect for petite brunettes.

Dean sobered then and ran a hand down his face, turning back to Castiel. His anger gave way to guilt, but his adrenaline fueled body still shook with a need to protect.

“Alright,” he said, tossing up shaking hands, “I get it. I’ll back off, but will someone _please_ explain to me what the fuck happened? I mean, it was just dinner.”

Meg moved to stand between Dean and Cas and placed a protective hand on her roommate’s shoulder. “Not every family is as well-adjusted as the perfect _Winchesters_ ,” she practically choked on the name. “Some are ass backwards and mean and religious and  …” she trailed off.

Cas and Meg waited for her implication to sink in for Dean. He scrunched his nose in confusion and shook his head before his eyebrows shot to his hairline in understanding. “Oh my god, Cas, I sent you into the lion’s den,” he said, regret plain in his voice. “I didn’t think…”

“Yeah,” Meg jumped on his words, “you didn't think.” She tugged Cas past Dean and into the house proper sitting him down at the kitchen table. She rooted through drawers and cabinets pulling out bowls and then ice cream.

“It’s not his fault, Meg,” Cas’ voice was quiet but resigned. “It’s mine. I knew what I was getting myself into and I went anyway. I got what I asked for.”

Dean started to protest on Cas’ behalf but Meg cut him off again. “Don’t you start that,” she said, her voice stern. “Those low-life assholes treat you like garbage, but you are a better son than either of those ass kissing dickheads. Do you hear me, Castiel? You are better than any of them.”

Dean was stunned at the level of loyalty on display by Meg. He knew that she was hard core, but he was suddenly grateful that Cas had someone that fierce fighting for him. If one dinner had taken such a toll on him, what had life been like when he was a regular fixture in that family? Dean was so stupid to think one evening could fix what was so obviously broken.

He knelt down next to Cas’ chair as he had done yesterday morning. Under Meg’s heated eye, he pulled Cas’ hand into his own and kissed it reverently. “This is my fault, Cas, and don’t you take any blame. I had good intentions, but I shouldn't have pushed you. It is completely my fault. I just - I just didn’t know.”

Meg snorted and placed a bowl of ice cream and a spoon in front of Castiel. “Ice cream makes everything better, Clarence,” she announced and dropped a second bowl on the table for Dean.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dean asked finally.

“‘Hi, I’m Castiel and my dad is a homophobic asshat.’” Meg dropped her voice an octave to imitate Cas, “‘wanna get it on?’ Why do you think, stupid.” She grabbed the back of Dean’s jacket and indicated the chair next to Cas.

“Enough, Meg,” Cas spoke. The ache in his jaw from unshed tears was soothed by the cold ice cream and he hummed his appreciation. “This is really just a comedy of errors. I mean, I didn’t call ahead, and I know that Father is hard, but I should have known better than to waltz right in.”

Meg opened her mouth but Dean cut her off this time.

“No one deserves any shit for being what we are, buddy. That’s just dumb.” Dean took a spoonful of ice cream and kept talking with his mouth full. “I mean, it’s not like you have a choice  like some people do when they decide to be a douche. I mean, being a douche takes effort and proper planning. I know. I’m both.”

Melted vanilla dribbled down his chin as he spoke and he pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead to stave off the brainfreeze. When he finally heard Cas chuckle, he shined a bright grin his way. At least he was smiling now.

They indulged in silence for a moment before Dean asked another question, “Hey, Meg, why do you call him Clarence?”

She shrugged her shoulders as she stood from the table, empty bowl in hand. “Castiel is a mouthful isn’t it?” she asked, taking the bait. “All formal and stuffy. I mean if we’re gonna have to talk to angels, they might as well be the sweet and funny ones right?” Both Meg and Dean smiled as Cas rolled his eyes, the tension finally slipping away.  

After an exaggerated stretch and yawn, Meg padded towards the hall. “I expect some major make up sex between you guys.” she called after herself. “Like serious wake the neighbors, oh-my-god-call-the-police-someone-is-dying-over-there action or he is not invited back. Do you hear me, Clarence?” Without waiting for a reply, Meg shut her bedroom door. Loudly.

Cas ducked his head down, a blush racing across his cheeks, and he finished the last bite of his ice cream, swallowing down the overly sweet, now mostly melted vanilla goop. “I really didn’t think tonight would go so badly,” he said apologetically, keeping his eyes cast down at the table.

Dean felt his heart break all over again for the hurt that Cas had experienced at the hands of his family. A sudden swell of guilt beat at him for putting Cas in a situation where he didn’t feel comfortable when he himself had shied away from Cas’ touch last night for the same exact reason. The tables had turned on Dean unknowingly and all he felt was a cavernous sense of regret gape deep in his chest.

He reached his hand out, hooking a gentle finger under Cas’ chin to bring his gaze up. “This trust thing goes both ways here. You know that right? I never want to make you do something you're uncomfortable with, Cas. Just don’t lie to me and, ya know, be honest with me next time if you don't want to do something, okay?”

Cas locked his unfathomable sapphire eyes on Dean and nodded solemnly. “Okay,” he promised. Dean felt his heart pound in his chest for moment, letting himself sink into those fascinating pools of color. He really had handled this all so badly.

“I’m so sorry I was such a dick,” Dean murmured. “I was really worried and scared, actually, but I shouldn’t have taken that out on you.” Cas nodded his understanding again and sighed.

Dean ran his fingers along Cas’ cheek and offered to tuck him in for the night. That elicited another smile and they rose to clear the table and shuffle down the hall, stopping just at Meg’s door for Dean to scream obscene sexual moans at her. Cas was only able to drag him away after she threw something at the door.  

“You don’t have to stay,” Cas assured Dean as he began to untie his boots.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to,” he said simply, watching Cas ease out of his suit. A sweet wickedness crept into Dean’s eyes as he continued, “Besides, I wanna know which brother’s ass I have to kick when I eventually meet these dicks.”

"To be fair," Cas began softly, "Balthazar and Gabe have always done their best to take care of me."

Dean nodded thoughtfully, stripping down to his boxers, and he pulled the covers back on the now familiar bed and sank into his spot, gesturing for Cas to snuggle up to him. "Okay, then you're gonna have to give me a little more background on the Novak family tree so I kick the right ass," he said, chuckling.

Propped up with pillows and holding hands, Cas let the story be coaxed from him. He shared his indifference to his orientation in high school and his sudden discovery in college. Though he wanted to, the days of his young adulthood that he spent sampling as many temptations as possible were not glossed over when he told Dean of them. Even though that self-exploration had a heavy hand in shaping who he was, it was not exactly a time in his life that he was proud of. But Dean had told him to be honest with him, and so he shared them all. His stories of debauchery at turns made Dean laugh in delight and huff with jealousy.

And then Cas came to that defining moment of his past; where his father had demanded he give himself over to the church, to make amends to his family and God for his sinful nature.

The undeniable hurt in Cas’ voice when he finally spoke of seminary made Dean hug him tighter and try to kiss the memories away, but nothing could completely erase the damage that his father had done. Like an unseen fissure fracturing an outwardly strong structure's foundation under the weight of familial duty and an ingrained desire to make his father proud, it still ran so deep.  

It had not been until Cas' reformation process within the church that he had slowly come to understand that he wasn't sick, that his sexuality wasn't something he could be cured of, like his father had constantly and viciously tried convincing him that he could. Abandoning his vows had been the hardest, but simultaneously most freeing, moment of Cas' life.

Dean listened for what felt like hours as the contradictions that were his precious Castiel fell into place. And when he had fallen quiet after laying bare his life, Dean began to share his own odd childhood. He had spent years as a child caring for a child, as he and little Sammy watched their father make his way through sorrow and alcohol. John’s late nights gave way to early mornings where he staggered in too drunk to get the boys ready for school. Even after he sobered, Dean still spent most of his time protecting and raising Sammy as John worked more hours than was healthy to try to clean up the mess he’d made of their finances.

But, as bad as things got in those years, Dean was so lucky that his orientation was never a problem. Not for his father or his friends. It wasn’t a problem for anyone until he met Jacob.

“I thought he was the one, ya know?” Dean asked with a self-deprecating laugh, rubbing his cheek along the top of Cas’ thick dark hair. Dean was silent for a long stretch and Cas could feel him turning over that part of his life in his head.

Cas pulled back slightly to glance up at Dean, feeling the shielded pain Dean was harboring seep into his own skin, and he brought a hand up, grazing a tender touch across the anti - possession tattoo over Dean's heart. He could see Dean's throat work as he swallowed and looked up at the ceiling, purposefully keeping his gaze from Cas' questioning eyes.

Dean opened his mouth, as if to speak, then closed it again, a tic bunching in his jaw as he clenched his teeth together. Cas clearly felt how uncomfortable Dean was and decided it best not to push the subject, trusting that Dean would tell him when, his heart whispered against an “if,” he was ready.

"Dean," he broached softly, and felt a swell of sorrow tug at his heart when Dean stiffened tellingly against him, "it's getting pretty late and we both have to be up early tomorrow. Do you mind if we talk about this later?"

Dean blew out a relieved sigh between pursed lips and nodded gratefully. He reached over and turned out the lamp, scooching them further under the covers.

“I really like you, Cas,” Dean’s hushed confession drifted to Cas.

With a thrill from the sweet words, Cas' heart thumped hard once and then dropped to his belly. He bit his chapped lips and shyly spoke his own confession back, “I really like you too, Dean.” He felt Dean’s arms tighten around him once more and then a rumble of humor rolled through his chest as Dean chuckled lightly.

“Hey, Cas?” he whispered loudly.

“Yes, Dean,” Cas replied, amusement creeping into his voice.

“Did it hurt?” With Cas’ face pressed to his chest, Dean could feel the confused expression as it took hold.

“Did what hurt?” Cas asked cautiously.  Surely Dean wasn’t asking one last question about his past. He pushed himself up on an elbow to study Dean’s face in the darkness, only to find that mischievous sparkle in his emerald eyes.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

The sound of Dean’s laugh echoed for just a moment before it was stifled by a pillow straight to his face.

“I seem to remember a certain someone dressed in a pretty revealing angel costume, whose pictures I still have saved in my phone," Cas declared, lining up his pillow for another hit, "And I am not above blackmail, Dean Winchester."

Dean laughed heartily at the empty threat and tugged Cas in close for a kiss. "You know you loved that costume," Dean said happily, "Just admit it."

Cas sunk into the next kiss Dean pressed to his mouth, showing Dean just how much he agreed with a deep and breathy moan.

Dean pulled back for a moment, panting out a hoarse chuckle as he rolled Cas under him. "I'll take that as a yes," he rasped, before crashing down against Cas’ lips for another taste.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We decided to have a little fun with this chapter by writing it as a series of one-shots that touch on the relationship growing between Dean and Cas as they progress through the month of November. Please enjoy, lovelies ^_^

By early morning, when Dean’s phone alarm went off, the drama from the day before didn’t feel so heavy. As Cas saw Dean off and prepared for work, he knew he would have to speak to Gabe and B sometime during the day. He had no doubt that Gabe knew about Dean by now and was actually looking forward to sharing this part of his life with his closest brothers. As much as yesterday had gone awry, his separation from family was taking a toll as well. Besides, spending those first few precious moments with Anna had reminded him of how he treasured the relationship with his only sister. As fearful as she was of Father, she was still sweet and gentle.

Dean didn’t bother to head home, instead deciding to drive straight to the shop to open up and get the schedule ready for the day. He spent half of his time daydreaming about his weekend with Cas and the other half planning their next date.

His usual afternoon call to Sam did not include a complete recap of the past few days but did end with a request to keep an eye on Luc if possible. If he was at that dinner, Dean wanted to get as much intel on him as possible.

As the day drew to its end and Dean and Castiel made contact again, it was like coming home for both of them. They didn’t know it as November got rolling, but they were about to plunge off of the cliff of casual dating and splash down into the sea of steadfast commitment. Neither planned to fall so hard or so fast, but both knew that it was not something you could plan anyway.  
  


Good Morning, Gabe

In bare feet and pajama bottoms, Cas stood in the kitchen watching the coffee pot brew his favorite potion. Another Sunday would bring another brother so he was not surprised when he heard the knock at the door. It was Gabe who stopped by this time and Cas reluctantly let him  into the foyer. It was not that he really minded Gabe’s company, having spent more than an hour on the phone yesterday listing all of Luc’s faults. It was that Dean was sleeping and he wasn’t sure if Gabriel could stay quiet long enough to let his lover sleep in.

As they swapped salutations and Gabe hung up his coat, Cas heard the familiar thud of Dean’s feet trudging down the hall. They both turned and watched a half asleep and very naked Dean shuffle into the kitchen. Stunned into awkward silence, they listened as he dug through the fridge and then watched, Cas horrified, as he shuffled back down the hall, water bottle in hand.

Cas and Gabe stared blankly at each other and then stared blankly at the wall beside them, suddenly fascinated by the bad reprint of Monet.

Unable to hold back his crass thoughts, Gabe finally blurted out, “Hung like a horse, that one. Way to go, Casserole!” He smacked his brother on the back and headed for the kitchen and a fresh cup of coffee.

 

Movie Night

Cas let out a sigh of relief as the movie scene cut to morning. They were curled up on Dean’s couch watching a Paranormal Activity movie marathon. Cas made it through the first movie, barely, and was quickly sucked into the second; the drama with the baby held him captivated.

With a lull in the activity, Dean excused himself to use the bathroom and swap jeans for basketball shorts. His pride for his surround sound swelled, as he felt the base sinking as night fell again in the movie and he just knew that Cas would be on edge. He tiptoed down the hall and stopped behind the couch to watch Cas watch the movie.

Cas’ phone buzzed again so he finally just shut it off. He dropped it on the coffee table in exchange for his soda and took a full swig.  He then sat back and hugged the bowl of popcorn in a Kung Fu grip, his attention captured by the digital clock on the bottom of the screen. As the doors began to open on their own, Cas shook his head and closed his eyes in denial of imminent danger.  

“BOO!” Dean yelled.

Cas jumped so hard, the popcorn and bowl flew into the air hitting Dean and he smacked his bare foot on the coffee table. It took a full twenty minutes for Dean finally stop laughing.

 

Sweet Cherry Pie

“It’s not really that hard, Dean,” Cas said, pulling flour and salt and shortening from his pantry along with a can of comstock cherries.

“Yeah,” Dean snorted, “Says _you_.” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the kitchen counter as Cas removed the items for a cherry pie he had proclaimed Dean was going to help him make. “The last time I baked something I mixed up the baking soda with the baking powder and almost made Sam throw up.”

Cas laughed and shook his head. “Well you’re in luck because this recipe calls for neither.”

Dean was skeptical, but watched and listened carefully to all of Cas’ instructions, helping to mix all the ingredients when Cas directed him to. He tried diligently to keep his focus on the task at hand, to be an attentive student, but quickly became distracted with the move of Cas’ hips when he rolled out the pastry dough.

He looked away, quickly grabbing up the can of pie filling when Cas asked. Cas poured the cherries into the pie shell, completely oblivious to Dean’s ogling eyes, which had riveted themselves to Cas’ gorgeously round ass. Dean tried looking away again, but then Cas bent over to put the pie in the oven and Dean lost all self-control. He brought a flour covered palm down on Cas’ right ass cheek, the spank leaving a perfect imprint of his own hand against Cas’ jeans.

Cas yelped and Dean quickly closed the oven door, dragging Cas down onto the flour covering the tiled floor. He had Cas pinned under him, writhing and moaning and completely covered in a fine dusting of white when Meg suddenly popped her head into the kitchen.

“Hey, whatcha guys makin? It smells good in…” Her words quickly died away when she saw Cas and Dean on the floor and she turned on her heel and headed straight back to the front door. “Nevermind, I’m not hungry anymore!”

Dean and Cas’ hearty laughter followed her out of the house.

 

Food Drive

Cas’ phone buzzed again making him lose count of the boxes. Anna had asked him to help organize and start packing some of the food that had already been collected by her charity. They had been working for several hours and were wrapping up for the night but he didn’t want to stop working to answer his phone.

Anna gave him a quizzical look when he cursed under his breath and started counting again. As she stepped out of their work space, Balthazar carried over and dropped two more boxes on top of the next row and tapped Cas’ back lightly.

“Answer it, love, or I’ll break it myself.” B’s glowing smile made Cas roll his eyes but took his phone out of his pocket anyway. He had four missed calls, a voice mail and a picture text. He opened the text and flushed crimson, quickly dropping the phone back into his pocket.

B studied him for a moment before laughing outright. “He sent a dick pic, didn’t he?” he whispered to Cas. “Cheeky bastard.”

“Dean and I will have a long discussion about patience and its many virtues,” Cas replied quietly while mentally mapping out a list of proper punishments for his impatient boyfriend.

 

Poker Night

Dean made it clear that Cas should not play poker with them unless he was ready to lose to Bobby. Even Dean had a hard time beating that man but Cas was sure he would be fine.

“I played strip poker in college, remember, Dean?” Castiel asked as Dean dug a deck of cards out of the utility drawer. “I hate to admit it but I got some of the best blowjobs that way. I know he’s beaten you, _badly_ , but I’m sure I’ll be alright.”

Taking that as a challenge, Dean talked Cas into a upgrading their game from stud to strip, more than confident that he would have Cas in his birthday suit in no time. Two hours later, Dean was in his boxers and on his knees in the kitchen, swallowing down as much of Cas’ cock as his throat would allow. Losing wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be and stroked himself into orgasm as Cas came thick and salty in his mouth.

“You suck at poker, Dean,” Cas whispered with a laugh, kissing his own spend from Dean’s lips.

 

Sleeping

It didn’t take long for each to be spoiled by the warmth of another body under the covers. As November drew nearer to December and the temperature continued to drop, they found nights spent alone too cold to manage. Having the heater on just made their respective spaces stuffy and soon lonely nights came fewer and farther between.

By the time Thanksgiving rolled around, regardless of the bed, they could be found most nights, curled back to back with feet touching. On the occasion that one got up to relieve themselves or grab water, the other would inevitably inch further onto the opposite side in search of the one’s warm skin and comforting embrace.

 

A New Religion

As those blissful days fell into weeks, Cas came to equate the feel of Dean’s skin against his own to a deeply intimate religious experience. There really was no other way for him to describe it. Each touch laid down upon his flesh was like a solemn prayer, each glance of Dean’s fingertips was a sacred vow.

The sounds they made, the breathless gasps and moans and cries drawn from them both, caressed Cas’ broken, wanting heart like a divine hymn, consecrating his spirit with the purity of those most desperate invocations.

The press of their bodies became Cas’ creed, a doctrine of the understanding and affection passing between them with each and every thrust and pull. The taste of Dean, that unique flavor that he had come to know so well, became his sacrament, and he partook and savored at each and every sweet opportunity.

Their time spent in bed together moved Cas more profoundly and more deeply than any church sermon he’d ever heard, each release bringing him closer and closer to a power greater than his own, and he knew there was no way he would ever be the same.

 

The Invitation

Deciding to invite Cas to Thanksgiving dinner at Bobby and Ellen’s house had not been a particularly difficult decision for Dean. He wanted Cas to meet them, especially since the whole of his family kept asking about being introduced to him and, on a completely different level, he wanted Cas to know that not every family was psychotic and dysfunctional as the Novaks. He conceded the fact that his own rag tag group of family members weren’t always the most well-adjusted people on the planet, but they were a hell of a lot better than the depraved bastards Cas grew up with.

So, it had really been no problem at all for Dean to ask Cas to Thanksgiving dinner. He hadn’t felt nervous or anxious about it, but he also hadn’t realized how much of a problem Cas might see it as.

“Are you sure you want me to come?” Cas asked, eyes wide, hands coming up suddenly to wring together in a nervous gesture Dean had not seen him do before.

Dean nodded emphatically, “Yes, Cas, I’m sure.”

Cas looked down to his hands as they continued fidgeting in his lap, his dark brows drawing together with uncertainty. “And you’re positive I won’t be imposing?”

Dean sighed, bringing his hands up to cover Cas’ as they sat side by side on Dean’s couch. “Ellen practically begged me to have you come over.”

Cas drug his eyes up, centering his gaze on Dean. “I don’t know if I will be able to extend the same invitation for you to meet my family,” he said, the words sounding almost like an apology.

Dean’s heart contracted painfully, and he squeezed his hands over Cas’. “You don’t have to worry about that, okay?”

Cas gave a small nod, then licked his lips. “But,” he started before clearing his throat and trying again, “But what if they don’t like me?”

Dean was so struck by the ridiculousness of the question that he barked out a laugh before quickly reigning it back. “Are you kidding me, Cas? They’re gonna love you!” _Just like I do_ , he almost said before he cut himself off from continuing his sentence. As hard and fast as he was falling, Dean knew those were words he would have an extremely hard time saying; he had been so badly hurt the last time he had spoken them.

Cas smiled up at him, his blue eyes awash with relief before a hint of doubt dulled them minutely. “What should I bring for a side dish?”

Dean rolled his eyes and huffed out a laugh. “Will you stop worrying so damn much? All you gotta bring is yourself. Ellen would skin me alive if she found out I made you bring food the first time you come over for dinner.”

He threw his arms around Cas, drawing him in close. “And besides, I consider you dessert and I’m keeping you all to myself,” he whispered against the corner of Cas’ mouth, pulling him even closer before pressing a solid kiss to his lips.


	13. Chapter 13

Shuffling in the passenger seat caught Dean’s attention as he made the turn into Bobby’s neighborhood. Cas had untied his tie, _again_ , and was trying to make the poor knot perfect. He had been able to talk Cas out of baking a huge casserole, but he would not budge on dress code. Dean chuckled low in his throat, but didn’t mention it this time. At least there weren't any shoes for Cas to throw his way; he had learned the hard way just how sensitive Castiel was about first impressions.

Although Dean had assured him that jeans and t-shirts were the uniform for the day, Cas insisted on a suit and tie, citing that dressing down would be disrespectful to Dean’s family all the while dropping not so subtle hints that Dan should dress up as well. In the end, Dean caught the errant shoe before it hit his head and Cas was left the odd but well dressed man out. Dean decided that he liked Cas’ temper tantrums and might have to induce them more often.

They pulled into the already full drive and made their way to the door. Cas felt butterflies swarming in his stomach and he reminded himself for the millionth time that this was not his father’s Thanksgiving. He felt wrong walking in empty handed and shoved those empty hands into his trench pockets to hide their shaking. The last few weeks were the most satisfying of his life, emotionally _as well as_ physically, but familiar insecurities were whispering against the perfection he found.

Surely Dean’s family would not accept him, a defunct priest who chose his sexual nature above his vows, as one of their own. Would they ask about his past or about his relationship with Dean? Would they expect inappropriate details to satisfy a demented need to humiliate and degridate his magical happiness? Would they -

As if Dean could read his thoughts, he pulled Cas close and placed a reverent kiss against his soft lips. He smiled and rubbed their noses together before planting a loud, wet kiss to his forehead.

“They are gonna love you,” he reassured again. “Okay? They can a bit pushy and loud, but they don’t bite. Oh and if you’re full, be firm or Ellen will keeping piling food on your plate. Not sure how we didn’t end up butterballs.”

“I’ll be fine,” Cas said, letting out a shaky sigh, and took a hand from his pocket and slipped it into Dean’s as the doorbell chimed their arrival.

They were quickly greeted by a widely grinning Ellen as she swept the door open. A warm and welcome puff of air flowed out from the house at Dean and Cas as they stood on the frosty porch. “You know you don’t have to ring the bell, Dean Winchester!” she scolded lightly before pulling him in for a hug.

She released him after a moment and turned her attention onto Cas who was standing quietly beside Dean. “And you must be Cas,” she said with a soft smile.

Cas nodded and politely held his hand out for a formal shake. Warm amusement sparked in Elle’s eyes and she brushed his hand away. “We hug in this house, so you might as well get used to it,” she said, tugging Cas in for a tight embrace that pushed all the breath from his lungs, but in such an affectionate and immediately accepting way that Cas felt tears sting his eyes.

She held him back after a moment, but kept her hands on his shoulders, studying his face. Cas felt himself blush under her gaze though he didn't feel so uncomfortable that he wanted to drop his eyes. Ellen nodded after a moment, seemingly pleased with what she saw, and patted his shoulders before dropping her hands away.

“Hope you guys are hungry!” she proclaimed, stepping back from the door and motioning them in from the chilled and wintry darkness of the porch.

Dean led Cas over the threshold with a warm hand against the small of his back and Cas felt a tingle race up his spine from the innocent touch. He gave Dean a smile over his shoulder and saw a spark of understanding glint in Dean’s eyes as he continued to lead Cas farther into the house.

After hanging up their coats, Cas’ suit coat included, they passed through an inviting and rustically appointed living room, and then Cas found himself standing in a cozy and bustling kitchen. The delicious scents that surrounded him immediately set his mouth to watering. The turkey was already out of the oven and awaiting presentation. All around him, people were adding finishing touches to dishes, desserts and gravies. The din of laughter and playful squabbles was overwhelming at first and he took a step back and into Dean’s chest, his warmth providing instant security.

Dean tossed his arm around Cas’ shoulders and yelled his greeting to the crew in the kitchen, “Hey ya’ll!” faking a southern accent, and pushed them both into the crowded space. Ellen wasn’t kidding about hugs as suddenly Cas was handed over to arms that were coming at him from all directions, each professing a name that Cas immediately forgot but nodded acknowledgement to anyway.

He caught Dean’s eye as the pretty blonde from the bar pulled him in for hug. Leaning against the counter, Dean was beaming with pride as the two halves of his life finally met into a whole.

“Dude,” came a call over the noise, “I thought you’d never get here.” Sam stepped across the kitchen and leaned against the counter with Dean. “Are you gonna rescue him?” he asked, nodding toward Cas in the middle of the throng and handing Dean a beer.

“Not yet,” Dean snickered, “It’s his fault we’re late. Beside, the attention’s good for him.”

Taking a pull from the bottle, he watched the inner circle make Cas welcome starting with Jo who reintroduce herself, followed by Jess who blushed at the congratulations on expecting, and then Bobby, complete with manly bear hug. Then the others took turns - Ash from the shop, mullet combed just right, dark haired beauty Pamela from the salon, gruff Rufus from AA and a few other stragglers. This family tended to pull odd balls together. Cas didn’t know it but he was one of them too.

Dean finally took pity and made his way through the crowd and tugged Cas into the dining room, Sam on their heels. His eyes sparkled with mischief and mirth as he took Cas’ face in his hands and planted a hard kiss to his lips. Sam’s amused cough cut it short.

“So you okay, buddy?” Dean asked quietly, a ridiculous smile plastered on his face.

“Are they always this… friendly?” Cas seemed to be testing out the word, his face scrunched in disbelief. He had never been the object of so much affection and general curiosity. He had expected polite disregard at best or gross disdain at worst, but this unconditional acceptance was something he had never before experienced.

“Naw,” Sam's snarky answer came quickly, “eventually they turn on ya and want to sacrifice you to the full moon.” He winked and sat down across from the pair, extending his hand and his name. Cas immediately smiled, shaking Sam’s hand firmly.

“You’re the moose!” Cas blurted, sending Dean into a fit of laughter and Sam just into a fit.

“You told him that?” his accusing tone making Dean laugh harder.

“He already knew,” Dean said between breaths, “I think Meg told him.”

Sam grabbed up a dinner roll and huffed out a laugh, feigning indifference. "I'm just gonna have to find a way to get her back then."

Cas smiled and shook his head, "Meg is not one to be trifled with," he said warningly, most obviously speaking from experience.

Sam shrugged, smirking.  "I'll just have to take my chances."

The rest of the group wandered in eventually and filled the rest of the open space on the table with enough food to feed an army. Each taking a seat, the whole table turned to Bobby and Ellen at the head. After a brief grace, the noise erupted again as the conversations bubbled up around them and Bobby began to carve the turkey.

Dean slapped a hearty spoonful of mashed potatoes down onto his plate. "Oh, c'mon Sammy, it's not like that's the _worst_ nickname you've ever had."

Sam's hand, holding a piece of crescent roll, stilled halfway to his mouth, his eyes narrowing. "Don't you dare."

Dean brought a finger up, tapping his chin thoughtfully as Sam glared at him. Cas watched the exchange with unmasked fascination; It was all so very different from how he interacted with his own brothers.

"I seem to remember," Dean said teasingly, "someone being called Fabio in middle school because of his oh-so-luxurious hair. And I'm pretty sure that one followed you all the way through to your junior year."

"Yeah, because you kept reminding people!" Sam cried, and the table erupted in laughter.

Bobby leaned over his place at the table, shouting down to Dean near the opposite end,  "Dean, you better leave your brother alone. You don't wanna start somethin' you can't finish!"

Dean whipped his head back toward Sam and saw a smug smile curve his mouth as he served himself, and then Jess beside him, a generous helping of salad.

"Yeah, _Superman_ ," Sam chuckled, passing the salad bowl and then green bean casserole to Jess’ waiting hands.

Cas glanced at Dean as he brought a bite of cranberry jelly to his mouth. “ Superman?" he asked, intrigued by the almost comical look of betrayal on Dean's face.

Dean, straightening back in his chair, aimed for nonchalance and fell short. "Oh, it's nothin', just a story from when we were kids. Not really all that exciting." He stuffed a oversized portion of turkey in his mouth and kicked Sam under the table.

Sam grimaced, but kept the wickedly delighted grin on his face. He looked over at Cas and the whole table hushed, waiting for Sam to tell a story they'd probably all heard a hundred times before, but never tired of.

"So, Dean has this bright idea one day when we're, what, five and nine?" He looked over at Bobby for confirmation. He smiled when Bobby nodded and he continued, "so I'm five and Dean is nine and Dean sees Superman on TV when we're watching Saturday morning cartoons and decides that flying should be really easy if you just put on a cape."

Cas heard Dean groan and saw him bury his face in his hands out of the corner of his eye, uncharacteristically and adorably bashful.

"So he ties a towel around his neck, running around the house yelling 'I'm Superman! I've got to save Metropolis!'” Sam paused to let the teasing sounds make their way around the table to Dean.

“And” he finally continued, “he convinces _me_ to be Batman and ties a towel around my neck too. We run outside and that's when Dean sees the shed and decides that it would be perfect thing to practice flying off of since it's the tallest thing in the backyard."

Cas could suddenly see where this was going and let out a soft, "Uh oh," settling a sympathetic hand on Dean's knee under the table.

"Uh oh is right," Sam chuckled, bringing his fork up to point at Dean across from him, " _He_ landed just fine. _I,_ on the other hand, ended up with a broken arm! Dad was pissed when he found out!"

Dean sat up in his chair, the barest hint of a smile playing at his lips. "Hey! I got you to the hospital at least!" he shouted, sounding a bit hurt.

"Yeah, on the handlebars of your bike!" Sam shot back with a grin. This set the table to raucous laughter again and even Cas blushed with second hand embarrassment.

Dean settled back in his chair, smiling warmly at the memory. "Oh yeah. _That_ was interesting."

Sam speared a couple leaves of lettuce with his fork, laughing along with everyone around the table. "Got us where we needed to go, I guess." A meaningful look passed between the brothers as Sam finished his story, “You always did.”

When the laughter died down, the table settled into a steady stream of conversations as the guests enjoyed their meals. Compliments were doled out back and forth and Bobby took his time on a go at carving the second half of the huge bird. Sam was attentive to Jess, making sure her plate was full and occasionally placing his large hand over her belly.

Cas looked around. He was dazzled by the relaxed atmosphere that flowed so smoothly around him. He was compelled to remove his tie and found that loosening the top button of his dress shirt made him feel part of the group. The leisurely but lively affability of this patchwork family was intoxicating and he wanted to seal the memory into his heart so he would be able to pull it out of storage and cherish it whenever he needed. He leaned over and kissed Dean again in a silent show of gratitude, blushing instantly at his own bold behavior and garnering more oh’s and ah’s from the table.

As they settled back into their own conversations, Sam turned his attention back to Dean and Cas.

“So get this,” he began, “I bumped into Luc and Steve at lunch last week. They seem like a great couple, Cas. How long have they been together?”

Cas paled instantly and almost dropped his fork. He turned to Dean and then back to Sam as several questions flooded his mind at once. _Does he know about the church? Did Luc say something? Is he going to throw me out?_

“How do you know my brother?” Castiel asked, his mouth suddenly very dry. His heart began to pound and he grabbed Dean’s hand for reassurance.

Sam shot a questioning glance at Dean before answering. He knew Cas’ family was bad, but he didn’t realize that just a mention would draw such a strong reaction. Like a silent language, Sam immediately read Dean’s expression for _tread lightly_.

“We’ve met in court a few times,” Sam said, keeping his voice light. “He’s a tough prosecutor to beat. He’s very smart, for sure.” He paused, giving Cas an opportunity to compliment Luc as well, but as the silence continued he finally filled the gap. “Anyway, I’ve seen him out and about a few times with one of the partners at my firm. They seemed really happy together.”

“I was not aware,” Cas replied slowly. Was Sam was making a joke at his expense? He turned to the others seated with them, but they seemed oblivious to the sudden change on his part. Ellen was placing an exaggerated kiss on Bobby’s cheek as Jo, Rufus and a few others cheered her on. Ash was trying to flirt with Pamela, but she was laughing him off, tugging on his hair.

Dean, Sam and Jess watched as the implication of Sam’s statement worked itself through Cas’ mind, his brows twitching slightly. Jess reached a hand across the table giving his a comforting squeeze.

“You didn’t know?” she asked quietly. She glanced at Dean, her question for him as much as for Cas. He nodded in ignorance and turned to Cas, running his thumb down his neck behind his ear.

“I guess not,” Dean answered for both of them. The four shared a silent moment before it was broken for them by Bobby announcing desserts.

Cas swallowed thickly, forcing a tight smile to his mouth and politely accepting the slice of pumpkin pie Bobby set before him all while his brain whirled with the new revelation. Surely Sam was mistaken. Surely Luc, the one who never missed an opportunity to belittle and humiliate Cas for his unchangeable nature, was not himself harboring such a secret? Was it even possible?

Cas had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he hadn't heard Dean say his name at first. A firm hand on his shoulder quickly brought him back and he blinked up at Dean who was standing beside him at the table. Cas looked around, seeing that almost everyone had finished their dessert and had moved into the living room. He glanced down at his own plate, seeing with a pang of guilt that he hadn't even touched the pie. "I, uh, I apologize..." he began, but Dean stopped his words with a soft kiss.

"It's okay, buddy," Dean said, pulling back from Cas' face slightly. He straightened and grabbed up Cas' pie, handing him the plate as he moved back from the table and stood. "Why don't you head into the kitchen and get yourself a cup of coffee? We can leave as soon as I help Sammy clear the table."

Dean watched as Cas nodded numbly and made his way to the kitchen. There was no denying that Dean had been caught off guard by Sam's comment, but could tell, could _feel_ , that it positively shook Cas to his core.

Sam walked back into the dining room, having just cleared his and Jess' plates. "Is he going to be okay?" Sam asked, nodding back toward the kitchen where Cas had situated himself against the counter with his pie and coffee, listening with a distracted expression as Jo and Jess discussed nursery color schemes.

Dean rubbed a hand down his face and sighed. "I don't know. I think so." He began stacking empty plates together as Sam started gathering up the dirty silverware. "I don't really know much about Luc, but from what Cas has told me, he's a major douche and is always giving Cas shit for being gay, especially in front of their dad." Dean paused, shaking his head in disbelief. "Why would he be such an asshole when it sounds like _he's_ about as straight as a goddamn pretzel?"

Sam hummed thoughtfully and Dean looked up at him from across the table. "You know, when I was in psychology class in college we talked about something called Internalized Homophobia, and how a subset of that is Aggressive Denial. That might be what Luc is dealing with right now."

Dean's eyebrows drew together and he squinted at Sam skeptically.  "Mind repeating that, but in layman's terms?"

Sam huffed out a long-suffering sigh but gave Dean a smile. "It's when someone feels so strongly that they should _not_ be gay that they will repress their true feelings and desires and lash out with some really hurtful and damaging homophobic words. Luc could have seen the treatment Cas received from their dad and figured that if he jumped on that bandwagon _against_ Cas, he'd dodge a lot of the abuse that Cas was going through. There might even be a part of Luc, a big part, that believes he's doing Cas a favor by treating him that way."

A sharp jag of anger pinched deep in Dean's chest. "That's a pretty fucked up way to look at things."

Sam shrugged, piling the silverware on the plates Dean had stacked together, “It might have to do with how they were raised though, Dean.”

Dean crossed his arms across his chest. “Don’t tell me you’re making excuses for that asshat.”

Sam shook his head, sympathy furrowing his brow. "I'm not, Dean. I'm just trying to give you a little perspective here."

Dean let his arms fall to his sides, the fight deflating out of him on a heavy exhale. He knew Sam was trying to help, but he just didn’t think he’d ever be able to forgive Luc for what he had done to Cas. In fact, he had a pretty good notion that the bastard was all lined up to get a fist right to his goddamn jaw if Dean ever happened to meet him face to face.

“I know, Sammy. Thank you,” he said, grabbing the plates off the table. “Will you just keep an eye on the douche when you’re down at the courthouse?”

Sam nodded, piling up his arms with the serving dishes. “Sure thing,” he replied, following Dean back into the kitchen.

After clearing the table and cleaning the kitchen, if you don’t cook you clean Ellen’s rules state, Dean ushered Cas through the living room for final goodbyes. He declined offers to stay later and watch the annual screening of the Santa Clause, opting instead to keep Cas’ first foray into family get-togethers short. _Too much too soon may send the poor boy running_ , Dean laughed to himself.

Bobby and Ellen saw them to the door for bone crushing hugs and warnings to ‘bring that boy back, ya hear?’ Over all, Castiel enjoyed his first few hours spent with Dean’s odd but charming family. How different would they all be if his father allowed even a portion of the Singer’s warmth to seep into his home?

Sitting in the Impala with leftovers in the backseat, Dean and Cas waited for the car to warm up before pulling out of the drive.

“So,” Dean started, “you really didn’t know about Luc I guess.” He rubbed warmth into Cas’ hands with his own and waited for him to speak. When Cas pulled his hands away, Dean furrowed his brow in confusion.

“I’m not sure that Sam really…. that he under-..” Cas’ stammering seemed to frustrate him and he grimaced, turning to look out into the street. He was thinking, turning the news in his head again.

“I don’t understand,” he finally admitted, an edge creeping into his voice. “Why would my brother turn against me like this if he is the same? Why? When we could stand together?”

Cas turned confounded and woeful eyes to Dean. In all the years that Castiel had suffered at the hands of his father and brothers, it never occurred to him that one of them was suffering as much as he was, that one was hiding behind family honor and pride with enough diligence to beguile the patriarch into admiration. It was not possible.

“I am sorry, Dean, but Sam must be wrong,” he stated this fact calmly, as if the matter were settled.

Dean turned in his seat, scrutinizing Cas and weighing out his next words. He knew that Sam was right. Sam was smart, incredibly empathetic and sensitive to the needs of others, almost to a fault. Sam would not make up a story like this, especially if it would put brothers at odds. That was not him.

“Okay, Cas,” Dean decided to play ball. “If you don’t think that Luc is playing for our team, I can’t convince you otherwise. It’s not my place. But, will say this,” he paused and pulled Cas’ hands back into his own. “Sam said that if someone is _so_ uncomfortable with being gay, they might choose to hurt those like them as some kind of weird denial thing. Luc hurts you as often as he does, right? Maybe he has a better reason than just sucking up to daddy dearest.”

Dean pressed the palm of Cas’ hand to his lips and then stroked his own cheek with it, hoping Cas would breathe easy with him again. When his limp hand finally caressed his face, Dean smiled and ran his own fingers over Cas’ bottom lip.

“Besides,” Dean said with a smile, “every family has a _little_ bit of crazy. I’m just lucky that you guys got a double dose.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, his lame innuendo pulling a smile from Cas.

“Shut up, Dean,” Cas laughed as Dean put the car into first and they pulled out of the drive.

Cas was unendingly grateful to him for lightening his mood, but he still felt the nagging tug of doubt settling in the pit of his stomach about Luc's secret. He still wasn't entirely certain it could be true. And if it was? Cas knew there would be no escaping his father's wrath then, because if there was one thing Cas _was_ certain of, it was that his father would surely blame him for it and there would be no convincing him otherwise. 

 


	14. Chapter 14

The sun had gone down long before Cas pulled up to the Winchester Customs Shop, the wintery December evening cloaking the mostly deserted parking lot in a freezing darkness. A week and a half had passed since Thanksgiving and even though Cas' newfound knowledge about Luc still lingered restlessly at the back of his mind, he firmly decided that it was best not to think about it. If he kept his distance from his father and Luc both, a talent he had honed quite well, it would hopefully be an issue he'd never have to face.  

Grabbing fast food on his way over, he pulled his car to a stop in the space beside Dean's Impala and glanced up to the large bay doors at the front of the shop, now closed for the night, seeing bright fluorescent light spilling through the high-set glass windows. The chill from the cold night air began to seep into the car after he shut off the engine. He quickly snatched up the bag of burgers from his passenger seat and slipped out the driver's side door.

After Dean told him he had to work late and would miss their now nightly dinner routine, bringing a late meal down to the shop started out as an innocent endeavor. Cas only wanting to surprise him with a warm meal and picking up a few burgers from the closest fast food joint wasn’t much of a hassle at all. He was full of an almost childlike excitement as he stepped up to the large, dark building before him, quietly opening the side door on the shop, and slipping in as stealthily as he could. A heated blast of air from the auto garage's space heaters instantly warmed him as he crossed the threshold.

Dean was in the middle of the deserted mechanics floor, wrench in hand, staring under the hood of a dark blue muscle car. Seeing him bent over the dismantled engine in the harsh light of the fluorescents, grease smudges coating his forearms, dark patches of perspiration dampening his t-shirt at his underarms and lower back, immediately shorted out Cas' brain like an overloaded outlet blowing a fuse. Whatever innocent intent Cas might have had on his drive over was completely and irrefutably dissolved.  

He cleared his throat from where he stood just inside the door, his mouth suddenly very dry, and watched as Dean jumped and straightened away from the car before him, nearly hitting his head on the open hood. His verdant green eyes, wide at first, locked on Cas and he smiled warmly, recognition dawning across his face like the sun over the horizon when he saw the bags of fast food in Cas’ loose grip.

Dean stepped back from the car and quickly reached for a rag. The muscles of his biceps, gleaming with sweat and engine oil, bunched under the tight material of his t-shirt’s sleeves as he wiped his hands and Cas suddenly found there was far too much space between them.

Before his brain had even processed that his feet were moving, he numbly set the food down on the nearest flat surface and, stepped long, determined strides to where Dean stood, framed his face with his hands and crashed their mouths together in a rough and brutally intimate kiss. Dean let out a surprised grunt and brought his hands up to Cas’ back, digging his fingers roughly into the soft material of his button-up shirt.

Cas moaned deep and low, drinking in the taste of Dean's mouth, grinding his hips forward to press his suddenly erect cock against Dean's thigh. A heady rush of arousal flushed through his entire body and left him feeling light-headed when Dean pressed his hardened dick against Cas just as insistently. Cas' hands came up then, fisting into the material of Dean's shirt, pulling him even closer.

But Cas suddenly found himself being pushed back from Dean's mouth and his body ached from the loss of the heated contact. A needy whimper spilled from his throat before he could choke it back and Dean groaned loudly at the sound as he undid the fly of Cas' jeans with a steady flick of his wrist. His green eyes, blown nearly to black, glinted with an undeniable hunger when he plunged his hand, dirty with engine oil, down the front of Cas' boxers, palming and squeezing his straining member. Cas jerked his hips forward, crying out at the exquisitely rough caress.

"Oh _fuck_ , Cas," Dean panted, bringing his lips down to Cas' neck, sucking wet bites all along his flushed throat.

Cas threw his head back to give Dean more access, his hands coming up to tangle in the short dusky strands of Dean's hair, feeling electric bolts of desire shoot straight down to his cock, still being stroked in Dean's tight grip, with each and every single press of Dean's mouth against his pulse-point.

There was suddenly pressure at the back of Cas' knees when they hit the front bumper of the car behind him as Dean walked him back and Cas gasped. Dean's lips returned to Cas' with a hot, demanding greed, swallowing up the next ragged breath Cas tried dragging in. Momentarily stunned, Cas worked to give as good as he got, licking against the sensitive roof of Dean's mouth and moaning hoarsely when he felt Dean shudder against him.

He pulled back from Dean's swollen lips, panting and desperate, his nerve endings alight and screaming with desire. "D- Dean," he stammered, "I n- need. I - I want." All coherent thought had burned away from Cas' brain and he was having an increasingly harder time even forming a complete sentence.

But Dean seemed to innately know what Cas wanted, he always did.

Rough, calloused hands fell to Cas' hips and turned him abruptly, bending Cas over the car behind them, somehow pulling Cas’ pants and boxers down in the process. Cas sucked in a harsh breath and felt it lodge in his chest, filtering its way out of his throat in a strangled exhale when he heard Dean hit his knees behind him. Strong hands suddenly came up, kneading and squeezing Cas’ ass cheeks before spreading them apart. A blinding spark of understanding flashed in Cas mind a fraction of a second before Dean’s tongue, impossibly hot and wet, licked tentatively at his hole. It was the first time Dean had ever laid his mouth there and Cas’ heart clenched so hard in his chest he swore it stopped. He gripped at the dirty engine before him, seeking a handhold in the tangle of hoses and grimy metal as his back bowed tightly against the indescribable feel of Dean’s tongue spearing into his furled and quivering entrance.

Dean continued clenching his ass cheeks with his hands, pulling his tongue from Cas’ hole to bite at the tender flesh of Cas’ upper thighs. “God, Cas. Baby, you taste so good. I never knew,” Dean murmured reverently against his skin. “I never knew.”

Cas whined out a licentious moan, his whole body shuddering when Dean flattened out his tongue to lathe a long, slow stripe from his sac all the way up to the top of his ass. He could feel his poor untouched cock leak a copious amount of precome down the cold metal of the car’s grille and he sobbed out Dean’s name.

“Please,” he pleaded desperately, “Please, I need to feel you inside me.”

He felt the rumble of Dean’s breath and the rasp of his stubble across his skin as he pulled back. A warm dribble of saliva suddenly spread across Cas’ eager hole and a shiver wracked through him violently when Dean’s thumb pressed into him for a moment before withdrawing slowly. There was a rough rustling noise as Dean stood and shoved his own jeans down, and then came the sound of ripping foil as Dean opened a condom wrapper. Cas held his breath, his heart pounding so hard he felt like he’d pass out, when Dean’s cock, thick and heavy, finally _finally_ pressed against his hole.

There was a slight burn as Dean pressed in, but he worked into Cas slowly, allowing him time to adjust. Cas quickly became impatient and pushed back on Dean’s dick when he had only slid in halfway. Dean growled roughly, his grease-slicked fingers coming down to grip at Cas’ bare hips for leverage, thrusting his hips forward and burying himself deep.

Twin moans echoed loudly through the open space of the garage as Dean quickly set a pounding rhythm. “Thanks for bringing dinner,” he rasped sincerely, “It was a really nice surprise.”

Cas grunted out a chuckle and then a whimper, watching with rapt fascination as his pristine accountant’s hands turned filthy against the engine block below him, pushing back hard against Dean’s next drive forward, “No one’s more surprised than me,” he panted. He had really only planned on bringing Dean dinner, but he’d take surprises like _this_ as often as he could.

Cas could feel Dean stretch across his back, his thrusts becoming shallow and frantic, and he suddenly felt Dean’s hand wrap around his neglected dick where it was sliding against the front of the car. Cas nearly sobbed with relief as Dean’s stroking grip quickly brought him to the very cusp of release.

Dean’s voice was suddenly in his ear, low and urgent, when he asked, “You ready for this, Cas?”

Cas nodded vigorously, “Yes, Dean,” he answered brokenly, feeling his balls tighten up between his legs as Dean pumped his cock one last time.

And then he was coming, his release spilling over Dean’s fist as he cried out. He clenched around Dean’s dick involuntarily, his whole body trembling, and he felt Dean thrust forward with a rough finality, letting out a jagged breath along with a warming surge of come that filled the condom inside Cas with a hot and throbbing rush.  

Cas immediately felt boneless and slumped down onto the engine below him. Dean’s heartbeat knocked heavily against Cas’ back as Dean flattened himself on top of him.

“Dean?” Cas rasped out.

“Yeah?” came Dean’s slurred reply.

“I can’t breathe.”

Dean swore and immediately straightened up from Cas. Cas winced when Dean’s softening cock slid out of him, but he was suddenly tugged down onto the floor and onto Dean’s lap. He chuckled breathlessly, curling against Dean’s chest, and Dean brought his arms up around him, drawing him closer.

“What’s so funny?” Dean asked, nuzzling his nose into Cas’ hair and breathing deep.

Cas nodded to the car beside them and the mess of cum coating the grille and bumper. “I think this one’s going to need more than just a tune up,” he said with a laugh.

Dean chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of Cas’ head. “You know I’m going to charge you for the time it’ll take to clean that up, right?” he asked.

Cas craned his head to the side to press an awkward kiss to the corner of Dean’s mouth. “Think maybe we can work out a deal?”

“I think we can figure something out,” Dean said coyly. He turned Cas in his arms and pressed a languid and lingering kiss to his lips.

******

From his office, Dean had a full view of the bay and his new favorite car, the dark blue muscle. He sipped his coffee and felt his head fall back from the warmth of the drink and the memories that car now held. When he was done restoring it, he might not be able to sell it after all. He cleaned it up a best he could last night but he could still see smudges and dried cum here and there, covert evidence of his and Cas’ late night tryst.

The boys were working on their assignments throughout the bay and would break for lunch soon. He set his mug down and headed back to his own station, rag tucked into his back pocket. He already had Baby but he may pass Blue, no _Blue Devil,_ on to his own would-be devil.

He was stuck in the office most of the morning so he decided to work on the car through his lunch. The crew had had been gone for almost ten minutes when his phone rattled around on top of his toolbox. Dean stood up straight to stretch his back and wiped his hands on his coveralls before grabbing his phone.

**[text Castiel]** – I miss you.

Dean smiled and tapped out a reply but paused before hitting send. He heard the same soft cough from last night and slipped his phone into his back pocket. He gave his hands another good cleaning with his rag as he spoke.

“If you want me to bend you over this car again,” he called over his shoulder, lecherous grin in place, “you showed up at just the right time.”  He turned to the sound, arms wide to welcome Cas into his space. But his arms and his heart dropped when faced with his new visitor.

“As I recall _you_ did do most of the bending,” Jacob said, “didn’t you, Dean?” He stood near the doorway in almost the same spot Cas had occupied last night. His dark hair and fitted grey suit were perfect, of course, and he tucked his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he spoke, taking a step closer to Dean.

Dean took an involuntary step back and bumped into the grille of the car, sending it swaying back and then forward again. He swallowed hard, feeling the rush of adrenaline sweep into his system as his body prepared to defend itself.

“What are you doing here?” he growled the words at the man before him. He hadn’t seemed to age at all in the years since Dean had seen him last. Jacob took his time answering, choosing instead to meander across the open space, admiring the cars in their various stages of completion.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said, his corrosive voice like a vulture pecking at Dean’s hard work. “You really did accomplish your dream, didn’t you?” His white teeth, suddenly exposed in a sneering smile, ran a chill down Dean’s spine and he lifted his chin against his sudden embarrassment. He worked hard to piece himself and his life back together after Jacob left him and he was not about to let him undermine this labor of love.

”You are not welcome here,” Dean stated simply, taking a step forward now. Jacob tilted his head in amusement at the statement. Like a predator, he seemed to stalk Dean as he inched closer, his eyes an intense grey like a late winter sky. Dean always thought the color was fitting as Jacob’s heart seemed to be just as cold.

He stopped inches from Dean and let himself tilt forward just enough to force Dean to lean back or risking making contact. “I am welcome everywhere,” he corrected. “I heard that my best pupil has a new playmate. I wanted to swing by while I was on this side of the state to check on that rumor. Surely you’re not moving on, are you baby?” He made the endearment sound vulgar and sticky and Dean fought the urge to spit.

“I’m not yours anymore,” Dean replied. He would not bring Castiel into this tug of war and held on to that statement as he continued. “You stopping having rights to me the day I learned all about your lies. Get out.”

It was Dean’s turn to look fearsome as he pointed to the door. Against the pleading of his pounding heart, Dean took a step into Jacob’s space, his face contorted with hatred waiting to erupt. His hands clenched into fists, but he forced them to relax, opting to push Jacob away instead of punching him.

Jacob’s laugh echoed through the bay as he brought a hand to his chest in mock amazement. “I see my boy’s grown a pair! I’m impressed.” He rushed Dean, suddenly pulling his arms behind him and pressing him back against the car. Using his body to lean him backwards, Dean could feel Jacob’s arousal pressed against his hip and his midmorning coffee threatened to make an appearance. He tried to pull his hands free, straining his neck to move his face away from Jacob’s, when the wet heat of that tongue dragged a repugnant line from his collar to his ear. Finally, Dean had enough.

He wrenched his arms free of Jacob’s grasp and pushed him away again, this time following the stumbling figure away from the car. He took a swing and grunted his satisfaction when he landed his right fist into the left side of Jacob’s jaw and felt the smear of blood as his lip was split. When Jacob tumbled backwards, Dean grabbed him by his suit jacket and hauled him to the door, tossing him into the alley where he rolled and bumped into the dumpster.

“Get the FUCK OUT!” Dean screamed, rage bursting forth into wrath. He stepped over the threshold to attack again but stopped himself when he saw the woman and the car at the end of the alley. He brought her? He brought her with him while on this disgusting mission? She watched impassively for a moment before removing her sunglasses to reveal a black-eye.

Jacob was on his knees pulling himself up with the help of the dumpster when Dean grabbed him once more. He hauled him to his feet and shook him to ensure he was focused for his next words, his voice a guttural whisper.

“I am not some stupid and broken little boy. I am not your toy or your property. If I see you again, I _will_ kill you.” He wasn’t afraid to make this threat or the consequences that may follow him because of it. He had pictures and police reports and witnesses that would support Dean’s need to protect himself.

He shoved Jacob down the alley and spit after him before returning to the shop and slamming the door behind him. He leaned against it for a few moments, letting the adrenaline seep away before sliding down to the floor. He ran shaking hands over his head and down his face only to find them wet with tears when he pulled them back.

And then it was his turn to scale the growing mountain of questions and insecurities that percolated in his mind. Who would share details of Dean’s personal life with a monster like Jacob? How was he keeping tabs on him? Was he stalking Castiel? Was his love safe even now after tossing Jacob out on his ass?

As he came down from his violent confrontation, his ears ached suddenly and the sound of rushing wind was overwhelming.  Panic began to swell in his chest, but he forced himself to dial Castiel for help. He banged the back of his head against the door, using the pain as an anchor, choking on a gasping sob and waiting for Cas to answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to get pretty intense here O_O   
> Thank you to everyone who has read, kudoed, comment on and bookmarked this story! We really appreciate everyone's support and we're so happy you're all enjoying it! ^_^


	15. Chapter 15

"Hello, you've reached Castiel Novak. I'm not availab- "

A ragged sob tore from Dean's throat and he pushed end on his cell almost hard enough to break the damn thing in two. It was the third time in a row that the call had gone straight to Cas' voice mail and Dean was quickly crossing the threshold from desperate to hysterical.

Jacob's presence had affected him much deeper than he could have ever imagined and had sparked a full blown anxiety attack, something that hadn't happened to him since those dark days after the monster had landed him in the ICU.

Dean's heart pounded painfully and a clammy sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead as he brought his phone up again. His fingers trembled so violently that he was barely able to scroll through his contacts list to find Cas' office number. He had never called Cas at work, but he _needed_ him dammit. Hot, fat tears streamed down his cheeks, his breath coming in harsh and rapid pants, as he held the phone up to his ear.

It rang twice before a polite female voice answered. "Mr Novak's office. May I help you?"

"I -I need to talk to Cas, please," Dean rasped, his voice thick and wavering.

“I'm sorry, sir. He left a short time ago for an extended lunch break. Would you like to leave a messa-"

Dean hung up before she could finish. His heart continued to thunder in his chest and he doubled forward from where he sat propped against the back door of the shop, feeling his stomach twist sickly. His thoughts felt all tangled up in his mind, unbearably suffocating and confusing, but the one thing he was sure of, the _only_ fucking thing he was sure of, was that Cas was the only person that could bring him down from this. He had to find him; he had no other choice.

He scrambled to his feet, trying to get his brain to focus for one goddamn second so that he could remember where Cas' office was, because even if he was on lunch he must still be in the general vicinity of the building, right? A small voice at the back of his mind whispered that maybe he shouldn't be driving in his current condition, but it was quickly smothered under an avalanche of other frantic thoughts clamoring for Dean's attention, none of which were very coherent.

He shoved his phone in his back pocket and grabbed his keys off his desk, barely remembering to lock the shop door before staggering to his car.

It took him three tries to get the key into the ignition because his hands were shaking so badly, and when he finally got the engine turned over, his unending tears flowing in earnest. He scrubbed them away roughly and threw the car into reverse, peeling backward out of his parking space before slamming it into first. But his feet, suddenly uncoordinated, let off the clutch before he eased onto the gas and the Impala jerked forward violently as it stalled out.

"F - Fuck!" he cried, running a trembling hand under his leaking nose. His chest heaved with the effort to drag in oxygen and he started the car again.

The second time went smoother and he was finally able to pull out of the parking lot and into traffic. Dean rolled the window down as he drove, letting cold winter air flow into the car and soon felt the tight band of panic around his chest begin to loosen. He flexed his hands over the steering wheel and concentrated on pulling in deep breaths and letting them out slowly.

His confused and frantic thoughts eventually began to untangle themselves and he ran over the events that had just happened back at the shop. Yes he had been caught off guard, yes he had been afraid, but he had done a damn good job of standing up for himself and kicking that dick’s sorry ass, hadn’t he?  Dean surprised himself by letting out a weak watery chuckle, remembering the complete look of shock on Jacob’s face after he had laid that oh-so-satisfying punch right to his jaw.

By the time Dean neared the downtown business district, and the street Cas’ office was on, he felt mostly at ease and then more than just a little foolish for driving all the way across town. He decided that he might as well head back to the shop since Cas was at lunch anyways and would probably be impossible to find in the crush of people doing their Christmas shopping up and down the road.

He hung a right at the next intersection, intending to make his way back to work, when out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of dark hair and blue eyes. He whipped his head to the side and saw Cas stepping out onto the sidewalk from a perfume shop.

Dean slowed his car, a calming rush of relief pushing the last of his anxiety away from his heart at the sight of his boyfriend before a breathtaking swell of affection inched its way in. It scared the ever living hell out of him. He knew he was growing close to Cas, closer than he’d been with anyone, with the depth of the bond forming between them strengthening every day; his overwhelming need to find him just moments before was proof of that. But that sudden and undeniable conviction of that powerful realization seemed to hit him out of nowhere, leaving him slightly dazed.

He shook his head roughly, pushing the unease away and pulled into a parking space across the street from where Cas was standing. He started unbuckling his seat belt, his only desire in that moment being the reassuring feel of Cas wrapped up in his arms after what he had just gone through, a well deserved reward for calming himself down. But he stilled with his hand on the buckle when he looked through the driver’s side window and saw a pretty red-headed woman walk out of the perfume shop right behind Castiel.

Cas smiled at her as she stepped up beside him and he pulled her into a tight hug with his hands around her narrow waist and her arms behind his neck. Dean watched numbly, his overworked heart falling straight down to his stomach, when Cas leaned his head down to press a kiss to the woman’s cheek.

A sudden flare of fury and hurt burned through Dean like an uncontrollable wildfire, fueled by the memory of Jacob’s inexcusable infidelity and his sudden reappearance, and he scrambled to get out of the car. He slammed the door of the Impala and tore across the busy street, completely oblivious to the vehicles swerving to avoid him, his vision tunneled down to Cas laughing happily with a woman for whom he had most obviously just bought perfume. Of all the people that could have had the power to destroy Dean, he never thought Cas would be the one to do so.

Cas looked up and over just as Dean stepped onto the curb, surprised recognition flashing across his face when he saw Dean storming forward. He immediately released the woman and held a small bag with the perfume shop’s logo printed across it behind his back. _Are you fuckin’ kidding me?_ Dean thought to himself, _Does he really think I didn’t see everything already?_

Cas smiled pleasantly, the arm he didn’t have behind his back coming up to loop around Dean. “Dean!” he said brightly, “What are you doing downtown?”

Dean’s lip pulled back from his teeth in a near feral snarl and he jerked away from Cas’ touch.  “Cut the shit, okay? You think I don’t see what’s happening here?”

Confusion ticked across Cas’ face and his mouth fell into a frown. “What?” he asked, clearly perplexed.

Dean glanced to the woman standing beside Cas. Her hazel eyes were wide with shock as she looked between the two men. It so closely resembled a scene from Dean’s past that he felt the anger in his stomach burn even hotter.

“' _What_ '?" Dean parroted, "That's all you got, Cas? You wanna try that again, but maybe this time start with a fucking _explanation_?"

“Dean,” Cas broached hesitantly, bringing his hand up again to settle it down on Dean’s arm, but letting it fall to his side instead, “This is my sister, Anna. We were just trying to get a little jump on some Christmas shopping.”

Dean’s flaring temper immediately fizzled, leaving him feeling deflated and lacking. He looked over at the woman again and she gave him a tentative smile. The family resemblance was suddenly apparent and Dean brought a hand up to rub roughly across the back of his neck. “Sister,” he said flatly.

Cas nodded, shooting a questioning glance at Dean, then awkwardly swept a hand between the two, “Anna, this is my ...friend, Dean.”

Cas’ avoidance of the word ‘boyfriend’ was not lost on Dean in the least, and the fact that Cas was not willing, or perhaps ashamed, to introduce him as such hurt him almost as much as his misconceived notion that Cas had been cheating on him. He had been on a literal emotional roller-coaster within the last hour and this final insult shattered the last vestige of his hard won composure. A dry, brittle anger took the place of the wet, tear-filled panic that had tried drowning him only moments before and he squared his shoulders and pressed his mouth into a tight thin line.  

"You know what?" he said icily, clapping his hands together and then bringing them up, palms out with a halting gesture to show his immediate desire to be done with the conversation. "I just remembered that I _really_ don't want to be standing here anymore."

He turned on his heel, about to step off the curb with a painful, hollow indifference carving its way into his chest at how easily Cas had just dismissed their relationship, when he felt Cas' hand suddenly fall on his shoulder.

“Dean, wait! What's going on here?"

Dean spun around so fast he almost lost his balance. “I think I'm the one that should be asking that question, Cas!" he growled and shrugged away from Cas' hand.

Cas' arm slumped down and he tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. "Dean, I told you Anna's my _sister_."

Dean barked out an incredulous laugh, his heart breaking even as he did it. "Cas, if you think that's what's bothering me right now, then we've got a helluva lot more problems than I thought."

And with that, Dean turned away again, striding across the street with a near reckless abandon, flipping off a car that tried honking at him when he stormed out in front of it. He threw himself in the Impala and peeled out of his parking space in a cloud of burning rubber.

Cas stood on the curb, his eyes squinting in confusion, and watched Dean zoom away. He looked down at the bag in his hand that contained a bottle of cologne for Dean, a gift Anna had unknowingly helped him select, and then again to the cloud of smoke trailing Dean’s escape. He felt Anna slide up next to him and wrap her arm around his waist, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“You didn’t have to lie, Castiel,” she said softly, almost dreamily.  “I know who he is - he’s Dean Winchester. He is very handsome, but is he always so angry?”

Cas turned his face down as she turned hers up,  a frown now joining the squint. “What do you know of him?” he asked cautiously. Anna’s smile was mischievous, as if she knew the best secret in the world. She hugged him from the side as she spoke.

“Lucifer told me you were seeing him. He called him the righteous man for seeing such good in a lost lamb.” She laughed at Luc’s words as if his taunts were harmless jibes between normal brothers. Had she finally gone mad or was she really so naive as to believe that Luc meant no harm? Cas pulled himself from her grip and took a step back, still holding her hands.

“How does Luc know, Anna?” he asked slowly this time. She was so delicate and sweet, perhaps she really didn’t understand the meaning of her words. She never understood the complete significance of the feud between her brothers, all shielding her fragile mind from the worst of it.

“Luci knows everything, silly,” she chuckled and then waved at a car as it pulled into the spot next to them. It was Gabriel come to collect her from their shopping trip. Cas kissed Anna goodbye and mumbled an excuse to Gabriel as he searched his pockets for his phone. He had to call Dean immediately.

Dammit! he thought when he realized he’d left it on his desk. He checked his watch as he scurried back to his office. His meeting with Ravago started in fifteen minutes and he couldn’t cancel on the firm’s largest account. He’d have to start trying to contact Dean via text message, an inadequate medium for the prolific apology he owed Dean.

Again, when faced with a choice between his nature and his family, Cas had chosen the coward’s way out and hid behind his fear of rejection. Anna was right, even if she didn’t understand why - he really didn’t have to lie.

***************

Dean had somehow made it back to the shop without getting into an accident, had somehow made it through the rest of the workday without firing anyone, and when he finally got home that evening, had somehow finally gotten a hold on the anger and frustration and hurt that had been burning through him all day.

He slumped down on his couch and, staring at his empty whiskey tumbler, drug a hand over his tired face. Looking back, he could understand why Cas had not wanted to tell his sister that they were dating. The news might come back to Cas' father and would most definitely escalate things far worse than they already were for him. But that understanding, as valid as it may be, did nothing to lessen the pain of the dismissal of being introduced as Cas' _friend_.

Dean poured another cupful of whiskey, again feeling the weight of that realization he'd felt earlier, that he had allowed Cas to work himself closer to Dean's heart than any other man.  It was a frightening prospect, simply because the last time he'd given over that much of himself it had ended so damn _badly._

A sudden knock on Dean's front door pulled him out of his introspection and he set the tumbler down. He ambled across the living room and opened the door to a very miserable-looking Cas. The suit he wore under his winter jacket was rumpled, his tie was loosened and askew, and his hair was a tousled mess from what was most likely his hand running through it over and over.  

Dean quickly ushered him in out of the cold. Cas stepped into the foyer, shucking his coat and shoes as Dean watched, and then stuffed his hands in his pockets, a flicker of indecisiveness crossing over his face as if he was trying to gauge if hugging Dean would be a wise decision. He ultimately kept his hands to himself, though Dean wished he wouldn't, and opened his mouth to speak as they still stood in the entryway.

"Dean," he began, his dark brows drawing together, "I apologize for what I said...What I didn't say ... I never meant to...I- I shouldn't have....," he stumbled over his words and dropped his gaze, bringing his hands out of his pockets and wrapping them around his middle. Tears shimmered at the corner of his eyes, lending to them an even deeper shade of blue.

Dean felt his heart swell painfully, filling his chest with a tender fondness, and he stepped forward to close the gaping distance between them. "Listen, Cas, I get it. With the way your family is, I totally get it. _I'm_ sorry that I was such a dick. I never should have gotten so angry. There was just so much going on in my head this morning..." he looked down at his bare feet, unsure if he should tell Cas about Jacob, unsure if he was ready to reveal that dark past. But hadn't he told Cas, not even a month ago, that they should be honest with each other?

He looked back up, swallowing around the lump in his throat, subconsciously bringing a hand up to rub over the anti - possession tattoo under the thin sweater he wore. “My ex came by the shop today."

Cas' eyes searched his face, clearly not following. "Jacob?" he asked.

Dean nodded and cleared his throat. "Yeah. He, uh, said he was coming by to check up on me."

Cas stomach dropped and he reached his hands out toward Dean, knowing full well how hard that part of Dean's life was for him to relive, even if Cas himself didn't know the details of it.  

Dean's face took on a lost, far away look, and Cas drew him into his embrace. Dean hugged him back tightly, drawing comfort from his tenderness, and nodded against the crook of Cas' neck when Cas asked if he would like to sit on the couch.

They made their way into the living room and Cas sat in the corner of the couch with Dean settling down at his side. Dean was quiet for a while, just staring straight ahead at a commissioned painting of his Impala hanging over the television. Cas waited patiently for Dean to speak, bringing a hand up and setting it on Dean's knee.

Dean huffed out a shuddering sigh, rubbing his hands down his face roughly, and slipped off of the couch and onto the floor. He didn’t move away from Cas but instead leaned against his leg as he spoke.

“You know about me leaving school to take care of Sam. Even after he quit drinking, Dad was never home so someone had to hold down the fort. Bobby owned the shop back then and I was working full time at sixteen doing oil changes and detailing cars.  And then when Dad died …,” he paused taking a deep breath, turning his face to Cas for a moment before staring straight ahead again and continuing. “I was really messed up for a long time.” He let the statement hang in the air.

“I was nineteen when I met Jacob. I mean here I was a high school dropout with six bucks to my name and along comes Daddy Warbucks, attorney at law; of course I jumped on it. It was incredible. Jacob took me to dinner at upscale joints, bought me clothes, showed me off. He introduced me as his protégé like I belonged with his crowd. He even set me up with an apartment. I really thought we were going to be together forever.” He leaned forward and rested his head on the coffee table for a moment. He sighed when he felt Cas’ reassuring hand on his back.

“You know, everything was great at first. He said he had to travel for work so he was home less often but that was ok. After a year or two he stopped taking me out. He said it was because I was embarrassing him in front of his friends. I don’t know how it even happened, but I went from being his be-all-end-all to being a complete dumbass. I wasn’t dressing right, talking right, being right. And the worst part is that I believed him. I started messing up at work, fighting with Sammy. Even when we had sex, I wasn’t doing it right. He didn’t hurt me really, he just…”  He looked up at the ceiling to keep tears from slipping down his face.

“I woke up one day, realized that he thought I was the most retarded asshole alive, and _I agreed with him!_ He said that if I were a strong man, I wouldn’t have to take it up the ass. When I finally stopped getting off altogether, he said it was because I was weak.” The tears finally came and Dean curled in on himself and away from Castiel’s legs.

Cas sank to the floor with him and pulled him in close. He cooed his reassurance just as Dean had so often done for him. He let him wring the pain out with long, gasping sobs that shook his whole body.

“It’s done now, Dean,” Cas assured him. “You are not that person anymore. I mean, you went back to school, finished a degree and took over Bobby’s shop. How many people can accomplish so much after living with someone like that?”

“There’s more,” Dean cut him off and took a sharp breath. “He finally stopped coming by and then stopped paying rent. He wouldn’t answer his phone so, when I got the eviction notice, I went to his office. That’s when I saw them walking out of his building, just like you and Anna today. I saw his wife.”

Cas was stunned and just waited for Dean to continue.

“I walked right up to them. I mean, I didn’t know who she was. I thought she was a co-worker or something. That’s when he hit me. And you know, he didn’t just clock me, he slapped me like I was a kid. I mean, it had been seven years by now, but he still treated me like a child. And then when he came home that night, it just got worse. He beat me bloody because I _embarrassed_ his wife. _I_ embarrassed his _wife_!

He kicked me out that night. I had to call Sammy and Bobby to come get me. I was in the hospital for two days with a broken collarbone and three cracked ribs. He didn’t hit my face though; he said I was too pretty to ruin.”

Cas opened his mouth to speak and found that he couldn’t. He hadn’t realized that he was sobbing along with Dean, but he couldn’t contain the grief and anger he felt because of this monster who laid hands on his Dean.

“Did he get arrested?” Cas finally asked, “I mean surely he didn’t just get away with all of this?”

Dean took another deep breath and coughed to steady his voice, “We filed a police report and it went to court, but the charges were dropped. I guess he was a really good lawyer.”

_Lucifer_ , Cas thought to himself. If Luc knew about Dean, was it possible he knew Jacob as well? If he knew the whole truth, would Luc really call Jacob here as a show of power? Was his brother so evil as to help an abuser target his victim? Cas shook his head against the idea, bile rising at the notion.

“He can’t hurt you anymore,” Cas promised, “I won’t let him.”

“Don’t you get it, Cas? I don’t care about Jacob or his wife or any of that. I was scared today. I was so fuckin’ scared of _you_.”

Cas couldn’t follow Dean’s logic. “But why, Dean? Why be afraid of me?”

He had never laid harsh hands on his beloved and it should have been so clear that Cas held Dean in such a high esteem. He would blindly follow wherever Dean led them and there was no question to his loyalty, until today.

“Because I want it all, Cas,” Dean turned to face his fallen angel, adding gravity to his words. “God help me, I promised myself that no one would ever own me like that again, but dammit Cas, I want that with you.” Dean let out another choked sob, “I want to belong to you.”


	16. Chapter 16

They sat in silence for a few moments, each studying the other. Dean searched Castiel’s eyes for just a hint of his thoughts on his confession. He’d seen so many things in those eyes over the last few weeks - humor and sorrow, surprize and confusion, desire and joy. But he wasn’t looking for any of those things, so insignificant now compared to the emotion he so desperately hoped to find.

He knew his own face was a mask of insecurity and finally broke their silence with an exasperated plea, “Say something, Cas.”

Castiel held Dean’s palm to his stubbled cheek as he spoke, “You only belong to me, Dean, because you already own me. All of me.” He moved Dean’s hand from his face to his chest and rested his hand over it, letting Dean feel the thud, thud, thud of his pounding heart. “I love you.”

Relief washed over Dean as he pulled Cas’ other hand and rested it over his own heart. “I love you so much, Cas.” He pressed their foreheads together. In the past, the familiar gesture conveyed feelings when words failed them. Now it served to anchor one damaged but eager heart to the other.

"This is gonna sound stupid, Cas, " a hint of humor in Dean's voice, "but make love to me. No," he corrected, humor gone, "not _to_ me, _with_ me." He pulled his face back to repeat his offer. "Make love with me right now, Cas. Please?"

Cas placed a reverent kiss to Dean's forehead, breathing in a deep whiff of the scent that was purely Dean.

"Yes," he whispered, "yes and always."

Cas felt Dean shudder under the power of his words and he straightened up on his knees, raining more kisses upon Dean's upturned face, each one a solemn promise. His hands tenderly framed Dean's jaw as his mouth pressed softly to Dean's eyelids and nose. And then he gently, oh so gently, kissed away Dean’s tears. The saltiness of them was full of so much pain and hurt, but also of love and understanding, and it took Cas’ breath away. He sat back on his haunches, leaning forward to settle his mouth against Dean’s. It was a soft press at first, sweet and slow, and then Cas’ coaxed Dean’s lips to part under the tentative stroke of his tongue. Dean complied, letting out a soft moan that traveled in a slow languid stripe through Cas’ whole body.

He worshipped Dean’s mouth while keeping his hands on Dean’s jaw, showing him what his words might not be able to express; he cherished him, adored him, admired him above all others, and in this moment and for the rest of his life, he would love him. He would never take Dean for granted, he would never hurt him, and he would hold Dean’s heart, that most valued and honored gift, in his hands without ever breaking it. He showed Dean with the move of his mouth, with the press of his hands on his skin, that this was his most solemn vow.

Dean felt tears begin to well in his eyes all over again at the surge of oneness he felt passing between them and he pulled back, resting his forehead on Cas’ again. He fought to drag in panting breaths, and then dove in again, bringing his hands up to the back of Cas’ head, tangling his fingers in that thick dark hair, and pressing him even closer. His heart, near full to bursting, thudded with a sweet ache deep in his chest with each slide of Cas’ tongue against his and he moaned again.

The sound was quickly swallowed up by Cas’ mouth and this time, it was Cas who pulled back. Dean looked at him, in awe of the beauty of the man kneeling before him. Cas’ eyes, a deeper blue than he’d ever seen them, shown with a reverence Dean had never had directed at him by any other person. His lips, puffy and pink, were parted on an exhale, and his hair, Christ, his hair. The dark strands were sticking up in all different directions from where Dean’s hands had run through them, and it reminded him so strikingly of what he looked like first thing in the morning, that Dean couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped from his throat.

He pulled them both up to their feet and, hand in hand, they made the short walk to Dean’s room. Behind the closed door, they stood facing each other again, each drinking in the memory of the other, as if this moment were the most important in their lives. Perhaps is was.

Castiel moved first, stepping forward and running his fingers over Dean’s face, tracing the line of his nose, the ridge of his brow, the curve of his lips. Dean closed his eyes and let the feel of Cas’ soft digits sink into his skin as they crept along his jaw, down his neck and over to his ears. He felt his own fingers grip the back of Cas’ dress shirt before relaxing and climbing up his muscled back to his strong shoulders, pulling him in to press against his body. Those shoulders had carried so much, as much as his did. He dreamt of a time when they would carry burdens together.

His lips hovering over Dean’s, Cas took another breath, inhaling Dean’s scent, wanting to drown in it as he slid his hands down his chest to the hem of his shirt, tugging both of them to the bed as he did so. He slipped his hands under the fabric and kneaded small circles over the bunched muscles, tight from the outrageous stress of this day. When they were done, Castiel would have all the tension expelled from Dean’s body, even if if took the entire night.

Cas bumped Dean’s nose with his own and then darted his tongue out to tease his lips, a smile inching across his face. Dean smiled too before crashing them together for another deep kiss. He started rough, all teeth and tongue but immediately pulled himself back, the need to savor this feeling slowing his demanding press into a sweet suckle of lips, tongue and chin.

They would take everything. They would take everything from each other, Dean decided, in a way they had not done before. Not for lack of want or need, but because it had never occurred to them to do so, drawing pleasure from pleasure freely given. For all the times they shared a bed, all the times they each but separately hoped, neither had done so with the conviction that what was happening between them was forever. They would do that now.

At the foot of the bed, Cas wanted to take his time undressing Dean, slowly, as if was opening the most incredible, sacred gift. He pulled Dean’s shirt up and over his head, then traced just the tips of his fingers over the tattoo on Dean’s chest. A visible shudder wracked through Dean’s body and he brought his hand up, covering Cas’ wrist and stilling the movements of his fingers.

Cas looked up at him questioningly and saw Dean’s throat work as he swallowed hard. “I never thought that tattoo would come to mean anything other than the reason I had gotten it in the first place.” Dean glanced down, centering his eyes on Cas’ with an open vulnerability that stopped Cas’ breath in his throat. “You changed that for me. You’ve changed so much for me, Cas, and I- I don’t know how I can ever thank you.” He gently lifted Cas’ hand, pressing the pads of his fingers against his lips, “But I’m gonna work everyday to try.”

He released Cas’ wrist and went to work unbuttoning Cas’ shirt, dropping his tie on the floor, bending forward to place soft kisses down Cas’ chest with each inch of skin that was exposed until he was on his knees, pulling the shirt from Cas’ waistband. Cas shrugged the material from his shoulders, looking down just as Dean looked up, undoing the snap on his slacks and drawing down his fly, never breaking his gaze away. He tugged the pants down followed next by Cas’ boxers, bringing them down over Cas’ swollen member, watching raptly as it bobbed up inches from his face.

Cas inhaled sharply, feeling the moist warmth of Dean’s breath as it ghosted across his cock, and then all of the air he had drawn in was punched from his lungs in a great turbulent rush when Dean’s lips pressed against the leaking tip. Dean looked up at him from where he knelt, like a man offering up his soul in prayer, and brought his mouth down again, laying soft kisses against the frenulum and all along the underside of his hardened length, driving Cas slowly out of his mind. He brought a hand down to Dean’s shoulder and pushed him back gently, not wanting it all to end before it had barely begun.

He looked down at Dean, a gentle smile curving his lips, as he nodded toward the jeans Dean still wore. “You’re wearing too much stuff,” he said, echoing Dean’s words from that first night so many weeks ago, and extended a hand to help Dean to his feet. Dean chuckled, the reference not lost on him.

He swatted prying hands away and unfastened his own jeans, stepping back as he stepped out, watching Cas watch him, desire making his jaw tight and his eyes cloud over. Wanting to highlight every claim Cas had staked on his body, he ran his left hand over his right shoulder, caressing the fading bruise left from a bite. Next, his right hand ghosted over the fresh love bite on his left hip, fingers then gliding quickly to his hard member beside it.

He stroked until his hand was coated in his own precum before stepping forward and grasping Cas as well. He smiled at the rumbled gasp and stroked them both in time, letting the slick coat his other hand, before bringing both hands up for them to share, letting Cas suckle his juice stained his fingers while he did the same.

“I want to taste you from the source,” Dean whispered, a wicked gleam in his eye. “You want to taste me too, don’t you buddy?” He pressed a chaste and teasing kiss to Cas lips and smiled again as a shudder rolled down Cas’ body and he curled his toes into the carpet. His eyes roved over Dean’s beautiful, perfect body as Dean climbed onto the bed, flat on his back, his head close to the footboard, and motioned for Cas to join him. Without hesitation, Cas climbed up as well and let Dean maneuver him until he was on all fours, dripping cock against Dean’s nose, his own face buried in Dean's musky curls.

He slipped his hands around and under Dean’s legs to part them, and took his time laving his tongue over the warm skin in the bend of Dean’s thigh then nipping the loose skin of his sac. As Dean’s mouth pulled a shudder of pleasure from him, Cas sucked a piece of flesh into his mouth and worried it with his teeth, the need to leave another mark burning in his mind.

Dean let his cock free and rubbed his face against Cas’ thigh with a groan when Cas parted Dean’s cheeks to blow cool air over his hole and watch it dance at the sensation. He felt Dean’s hands part him the same way and groaned as well when searching fingers tickled his puckered flesh before he was taken back into the wet and warm heaven of Dean’s mouth.

Driven by desire, Cas reached his tongue as low as he could and was rewarded with spread legs when he finally tasted Dean’s most protected place. Dean’s eager and open response was punctuated by a thrust up of his hips, his cock, growing impatient from neglect, rubbing against Cas' chin. The upward cant of Dean's hips gave Cas better access to his tightly furled hole and he slipped his tongue forward, pressing as well as he could at the awkward angle through that first resistant ring of muscle.

Dean cried out at the sensation, his fingers digging painfully into Cas' spread cheeks, but Cas hardly felt the pain at all, not with the pleasure of giving Dean pleasure soaring through his veins. He felt Dean's panting breaths washing over his own cock where it hung heavy and thick against Dean’s jaw and then he was suddenly being drawn back into the wet heat of Dean's mouth.

He moaned against Dean’s entrance, continuing to spear his tongue as deeply as he could into Dean's ass, relishing in the feel of Dean trembling beneath him. But the angle quickly put a strain on Cas' back and he pulled his lips away slowly.

Dean, his mouth stuffed full of Cas' cock, mumbled out a groan at the loss of Cas' tongue. Cas felt the vibrations of the sound reverberate through his whole body and he looked under himself, watching with fascination the undulating movements of the soft underside of Dean's jaw and throat as he worked his mouth and tongue around Cas' dick.

"Dean," Cas gasped hoarsely, his eyes riveted to the sight of his cock disappearing past Dean's stretched lips over and over and he was suddenly coming, his muscles bunching and tightening with the force of his release, emptying down Dean's throat with a rasping shout.

Dean's arms came up and around Cas' lower back, holding Cas down until the aftershocks had abated, until he had swallowed down every drop of Cas' salty spend. And then Cas was suddenly moving off of him, turning to grab a bottle of lube from the nightstand and then settling between Dean's spread knees.

He cast Dean a meaningful glance, full of love and appreciation, and pushed Dean's thighs back. Dean looped his arms around his bent legs, drawing them up to his chest, giving Cas all the access he could want. A hungry gleam flashed in Cas' eyes and he wasted no time in settling down on his stomach and bringing his mouth back down to Dean's hole.

A weak and broken cry filtered from Dean's lips when he felt Cas' tongue, slick and hot, circle around his puckered rim. And then Cas was spearing into him again, licking and probing in a way that sent tremors quaking through his whole body. He hugged his arms even tighter around his bent knees, trying desperately to hold himself together, because surely he would shake apart into a thousand pieces at any moment.

"Oh, Cas, " he sobbed out, his chest flushed and heaving with the effort to drag in oxygen.

And then Cas drew back. Dean wrenched his head up, watching as Cas popped the lid on the bottle of lube and coated his fingers generously. He looked up at Dean, silently asking permission.

Dean's breath lodged painfully in his chest at the utter sincerity of the request and he nodded his assent fervently. "Yes, Cas. Oh god, please."

“Okay,” Cas assured him and let his wet fingers slide back and forth over his hole before slipping one finger in gently. He felt Dean clamp down on his knuckle and he rolled his wrist giving the tight passage a tender stretch. He pulled back and then slipped in again to the second knuckle this time and watched, mouth agape, as Dean writhed slowly against his finger, head thrown back at the pleasure. He gripped himself and stroked in time to his finger sliding in and out almost all the way to the webbing, then tipped his head back, imaging the tight grip of his hand as the tight grip of Dean’s hole. He pulled his finger all the way out and moved forward again with two searching for the spot, a sting of pleasure pulsing through him followed but the a cold memory, at Dean’s sharp intake of breath.

He looked down at his lover, face tense with pleasure, and realized that he was standing at a precipice. As eager as he was to fall into the abyss of pleasure Dean was offering, he wanted to be sure that Dean was really ready to dive off with him.

Leaving his fingers buried deep, Cas made the climb to Dean’s side and pulled one leg over his own, leaving the panting man open to his touch. Dean looped an arm under Cas’ neck and hugged him close, pressing overly eager kisses to his face and neck as he drove his hips down, grinding hard onto Castiel’s firm hand.

Their bodies suddenly moving together, Cas felt his hard length rub between the bedspread and Dean’s side, sending waves of pure want through him, each one crashing with Dean’s near frantic undulation. Castiel found his prostate, that sweet center of unbearable pleasure, and let Dean ride his hand at his own pace, making certain to hit it just right.

Dean was drowning under the mounting layers of sensation, each one coiling the scorching band of heat in his belly tighter and tighter. He crushed Cas against his body  when that squeezing band finally snapped, flooding him with a breathtaking surge of completion and he clamped his teeth into his lover’s shoulder as he grunted his release.

Unending jets of cum flowed up Dean’s stomach, almost to his chin and even along the back of Castiel’s arm. He cried out softly as an aftershock, the sweetest sound Cas had ever heard, and rolled up his body, licking the tender, broken skin on Cas’ shoulder.

Dean stopped him with a firm touch to his hand when Cas started to pull his fingers free, asking silently for a few more moments to enjoy the feeling of fullness and pleasure, a sudden rush of tears overwhelming him.

Cas glanced up to Dean's face quickly, concern drawing his brows together. "Dean, are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

Dean shook his head, his wet eyes a vivid and stark green as he looked over at Cas with his hand still holding Cas inside him. "I thought there was something wrong with me, Cas. For so long, I thought I was broken." His buried his face into Cas’ neck, his voice trembling minutely, and Cas felt his heart ache for the pain Dean had gone through.

"There is nothing wrong with you, Dean Winchester. You. Are. Perfect." He wrapped each word with the weight of the undeniable truth he felt so deep in his chest because it _was_ true; Dean was the perfection Cas had searched his whole life to find. And now that he had him, he was never letting go.

Looking at Castiel, Dean's lips parted on an exhale, wondering how in the _hell_ he had gotten lucky enough to deserve a man like Castiel. He brought a hand up to slip through the cum striping his chest, coating the still-warm wetness over his palm and fingers, and then reached down between them. He wrapped his hand over Cas' slightly flagging erection, quickly stroking him back to full hardness.

Cas' eyes flew wide, his fingers scissoring involuntarily inside of Dean's hole at the sudden hot spark of desire that pounded through him, drawing sharp gasps from both men. Dean continued to pump Cas' cock, stroking him with the rapid pumps of his fist he knew drove Cas wild with need and Cas' fingers answered the movements, thrusting up into Dean's ass again, sinking in as deep as he could.

Cas eyes fluttered closed and suddenly Dean's hand was on his cheek. "Don't close your eyes, Cas," Dean pleaded, his voice desperate. "Please, I want to see your eyes when you come."

Cas dragged in a ragged breath, his entire body being consumed from the inside out with the relentlessly burning flames of need but he nodded and kept his eyes locked on Dean's. He pushed himself up on his free elbow, allowing Dean and himself space to drench each other in savory satisfaction.

And the look on Dean's face, that honest, open, _trusting_ look on his face, is what did Cas in. It punched his orgasm from him so hard he saw fucking stars, but still he kept his eyes open, even as his vision blurred to white at the edges. He brushed his lips to Dean’s, then his forehead and then focused on his eyes again.

His seed spilled over Dean's fist, spurting between them in hot, ropy streams that splashed across Dean's stomach, mixing fluidly with the cum already coating Dean's skin. Cas' whole body spasmed, every inch, even his fingers, still buried in Dean's ass.

The jerky, wild movements of Cas' fingers glancing over Dean's prostate was enough to tip him over the edge as well, though he didn't have much left to release after his _first_ earth-shattering orgasm. His cock twitched valiantly, spurting out a few drops of sticky fluid as Dean shouted Cas' name in a broken stutter.

And as they came down from that euphoric high, as they both struggled to catch their breath, they knew, with a certainty that eclipsed every other worry or shortcoming or fear, that they could be happy, that they could feel love in its most basic, accepting way and for them it would be more than they could ever hope to want.

“I love you,” they said in unison, soft laughter coming from each.

“You’re a mess, Dean,” Cas whispered, delight in his voice, pulling his hand free.

“I am,” Dean agreed, a laugh rumbling up from his chest. He ran his hand over the spend whitewashing his skin, coating his hand with the sticky mess and then slathered it over Cas’ face. “You’re a mess too, Cas.”

“Oh my god,” Cas groaned, giggles starting to bubble up to the surface, an infectious sound that immediately passed to Dean.

“I love you, Dean,” Cas said again, between giggles.

Dean's heart swelled with a sweetness he had never known. “I love you too, Cas,” he replied, and he was amazed at how easily the words rolled off his tongue, at how _right_ they felt.

And with that wonder warming him from the inside out, he pressed another kiss to Cas' mouth.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,   
> To help set the tone for this chapter, we recommend that you listen to Hozier's stunning song 'Take Me to Church' as you are reading it. Go to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u3voRbKryjA in a separate tab when indicated in the story and come back to listen as you continue reading. It will help to elevate the emotions experienced by Dean and most especially Cas.

The alarm went off at six in the morning, as usual, and Dean smacked it, as usual. He reached out, dragging Castiel into his arms as he mumbled something about five more minutes. More than happy to snooze as well, Cas nuzzled into Dean’s neck and breathed in his dark scent. He smelled best in the morning, Cas thought, when their passion had time to soak into his skin and cool into something mouthwatering. Yes, Dean smelled best before sunrise.

When the alarm sounded again, they both groaned and cursed the stupid clock and the stupid sun and stupid work. These first few moments were too wonderful to break. Cas was able to forget his family and wade through the safety of Dean’s arms, a safety he was now able to provide Dean in return. For Cas, gone was the fighting over his nature, his disobedience and his lifestyle. Gone was the doubt and fear and turmoil. All that was left was Dean.

When it went off again, Dean’s exploring hands unwillingly loosened their grip on Cas’ intimate parts to search out the offending item and unplug it roughly from the wall. With a wicked grin, he went back to delaying their wakeup call.

When their sweet giggles grew past soft whispers and heavy panting, past needy groans and grunts, to contented sighs, Cas declared that they were both going to be late. Again.

With a parting kiss and whispered ‘I love you’s,’ Dean headed to the kitchen as Cas made the bed. He could hardly believe that the last few days had been even more wonderful than the last month, their feelings finally out in the open, and Cas stubbornly pushed his concerns about Luc away from his little slice of happiness. He asked Balthazar and Gabriel to keep tabs, but he wanted to bask in the uninterrupted glory of his shared love for as long as possible.

He finished the bed by fluffing the pillows, plugged his iPod into the dock and headed to the bathroom, glad he didn’t have to wait for Meg to finish her turn; she’d stayed with Charlie, leaving them alone in the house again. Pandora launched and the first few melancholy bars of a new song started as Cas applied toothpaste to his toothbrush. 

 

**(Begin playing _Take Me To Church_ now)**

 

_My lover's got humor_

_She's the giggle at a funeral_

_Knows everybody's disapproval_

_I should've worshiped her sooner_

 

He turned the water off to hear the lyrics better. 

 

_If the heavens ever did speak_

_She's the last true mouthpiece_

_Every Sunday's getting more bleak_

_A fresh poison each week_

 

Cas dropped his toothbrush and stepped back into his bedroom.

 

_'We were born sick,' you heard them say it_

 

He stared at his iPod as if it had grown into rotten meat swarming with maggots. What was he listening to? 

 

_My Church offers no absolutes._

_She tells me, 'Worship in the bedroom.'_

_The only heaven I'll be sent to_

_Is when I'm alone with you—_

 

With a grimace, his eyes turned to the family portrait framed on the dresser. He picked it up to study it. He hadn’t really looked at it in weeks.

 

_I was born sick,_

_But I love it_

_Command me to be well_

_Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen._

 

He ran his thumb over the face of his father. Contempt and disapproval emanated from the ever stern features of the man that called him those horrible things. Even after all these years, the echo of his rejection rang in Cas’ ears as if they were spoken yesterday.

 

_Take me to church_

_I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies_

_I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife_

_Offer me that deathless death_

_Good God, let me give you my life_

 

Living a lie. He had been living a lie but wouldn’t do it anymore. He didn’t have to but…

As the song continued, his memory drifted back to dinner those few weeks ago. He had listened to the onslaught again and apologized again. He was not falling back on bad habits or ‘deserting his faith in favor of abhorrent lust.’ But they just wouldn’t see this like that.

 

_If I'm a pagan of the good times_

_My lover's the sunlight_

_To keep the Goddess on my side_

_She demands a sacrifice_

 

He was a better and truer version of himself and that should be all that mattered, right? He’d found the other half that made him whole and that should make them happy, shouldn’t it? If so, then why did his heart feel so very heavy?

 

_Drain the whole sea_

_Get something shiny_

_Something meaty for the main course_

_That's a fine looking high horse_

_What you got in the stable?_

_We've a lot of starving faithful_

 

Lost in these thoughts, it wasn’t until the third buzz that Cas realized he’d received a text message. It was very early so it must be important. It was.

 

_That looks tasty_

_That looks plenty_

_This is hungry work_

 

**[text] From Gabriel – I’m sorry, Casserole. Dad knows about Dean.**

 

Dad knows. Dad knows. Dad knows about Dean. The words echoed in his head, a growing crescendo that crashed out of his mouth as a cry of rage. “GOD DAMMIT!!!”

 

_Take me to church_

 

_I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies_

_I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife_

_Offer me my deathless death_

_Good God, let me give you my life_

 

His anger and sorrow and frustration peaked, and the portrait in his hands sailed across the room and met the wall; the force detonating the glass into a shard for each painful moment he’d experienced. “DAMMIT!” he cried out again and sank to the floor. “Dammit,” he whispered.

Dean heard Cas scream and then the glass break. He dropped the bowl of eggs he was scrambling and rushed back to the room. He watched from the doorway for a moment, stunned, as agony pulled Castiel to floor, the unadulterated misery before him rendering him immobile.

 

_No Masters or Kings_

_When the Ritual begins_

_There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin_

 

“I’m here, Cas,” Dean murmured sinking to the floor to pull his lover into his arms. “I’m here,” he whispered again and pressed a kiss to Cas’ temple. He rocked him gently and stroked his hair, tender ramblings soothing gasping sobs into hiccupped whimpers.

“It’s okay, buddy." As he spoke, Dean searched Cas’ face for evidence of the unseen trespass leaving him prostrate with grief. “What happened? Talk to me.”

Cas wiped his wet face and swallowed a hiccup to answer. His eyes filled with torment as he formed the words that proclaimed his worst fears. “Dad knows, Dean. He knows. He knows about you.”

 

_In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene_

_Only then I am Human_

_Only then I am Clean_

_Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen._

 

Dean drank in Cas’ statement. He hugged him close again and willed his devotion to this cherished creature to bleed across from his own lips and onto lover’s skin, to envelope him in uncompromising protection. He pulled Cas' face up, his large hands encasing his beautiful features but refusing to let him waiver from his gaze.

“I’m with you no matter what, Castiel. He can’t run me off.” He hugged him fiercely and spoke again. “Family don’t end with blood. Bobby says it so that makes it true.You are my family now.” Dean caressed his still shaking shoulders and waited for his lover to revive himself from despair.

Cas wanted to cling to every magical promise Dean and his love were willing to make. Even if they were lies, he would gladly trade the desiccated fealty of his old life for the sweet ambrosia of Dean’s adamant pledges. He would believe.

_Take me to church_

_I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies_

_I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife_

_Offer me that deathless death_

_Good God, let me give you my life_

 

The last few melancholy bars of a new song ended as Cas himself pulled together. Dean’s strong arms helped him to his feet. His strong hands helped his wipe his face. His sweet lips kissed his fear away.

But before Cas could fully settle into the steadfast assuredness of Dean’s embrace, his phone shrilled loudly in the ringtone Gabe had set for him for their father, ‘Night on Bald Mountain.’ Cas’ heart plummeted in a sickening free fall and he looked up at Dean, feeling helpless and hating himself for it. Of course Father was calling each of them, down the line to his youngest son. All things in Father’s time. That’s how Gabriel knew he knew.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Dean finally yelled at the ringing phone.  He then said nothing and only drew him close to his chest, wrapping his arms around Cas tightly until the music stopped. “You don’t have to answer that,” he murmured against Cas’ hair.

The alert for a new voicemail chimed from Cas' phone where it lay on the floor and Cas' tried pulling back from the safety of Dean's arms. Because as much as Cas feared his father, he feared missing a call from his father almost as much. He pushed back from Dean weakly and Dean let him go with a silent reluctance.

Cas scooped his cell up off the floor, his pulse hammering away in his throat, and tapped the option for his messages. He brought the phone up to his ear with a hand that was far from steady, tilting his head towards Dean and they both listened.

"Castiel, my dearest son, won't you please come to Sunday dinner this weekend? We have so much to discuss." His father's dooming voice dripped with a deceptive sweetness like a lethally poisoned honey drop and Cas had to swallow back the bile rising in his throat.

He knew that his father never made 'suggestions', only cleverly disguised directives; this request was no different than any other Cas had ever heard from him his whole life. But still he felt a thin slip of hope, even after everything his father had put him through, even after the words from that song had shifted something so deep inside him, that maybe maybe his father was finally beginning to understand that Cas' nature was true and pure and unchangeable. Maybe that was why he invited him.

Dean pulled his face away from the phone as Cas hit end and dropped it next to them. His blood had already set to simmer when he saw his love so distraught but seeing that unbearable sorrow give way to hope was too much and his blood instantly boiled. He knew the power of family and he would not allow Cas’ father to sucker him in just to hurt him some more. Come hell or high water, he would stand with and for Castiel in whatever storm was coming.

“I mean it, Cas, I’m with you no matter what. He will not run me off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must give all credit to my partner in crime AlmostSuperWhoFan for writing this chapter. The beautiful words she conveyed with such perfection left me in awe when she shared them with me and I could not be more grateful for such a talented writing partner and friend. 
> 
> xoxo,  
> Lopsided Whiskey Grin


	18. Chapter 18

“If it’s for me,” Dean said again, “then you really don’t have to go.” This was the third conversation in as many days and Cas was still as determined as the first time.

“I know that, Dean,” he answered again, “but it’s really not about you. I mean it partly is but not really.” Cas had tried to explain his need over the last few days but seemed to keep falling short.

They sat at the kitchen table at Cas’s house, sharing leftover lasagne from the night before. Dean felt deja vu as they recreated the scene as it played out last night - Dean with reassurances of trust and Cas with a shaky determination to go.

Dean huffed around a mouthful, “I know you love me, buddy. You don’t have to prove anything to me. Letting them treat you like a punching bag was so hard last time. I don’t want to do it again. I don’t want you to do it.”

Cas smiled at Dean, genuinely enjoying the taller man’s eating habits. Dean ate like food was the most amazing invention ever created and his pleasure was infectious.

“I don’t want to be treated poorly either,” Cas began, setting his mouth into a firm line. “I spent so many days running that I never really gave them a reason not to hurt me. I don’t want to run anymore. You stood up to Jacob. I need to do the same.”

“I get it, Cas,” Dean answered solemnly, “You are a strong, black woman that don’t need no man to protect her.”

“That’s right,” Cas replied blindly, “I am a strong, black wom- “ Dean dodged the wadded up napkin without looking up from his plate. “I’m serious Dean,” Cas chuckled.

“I know,” Dean answered, reaching across the table to hold Cas’ hand. “It’s my job to take care of you. That means making you laugh as much as kicking a dick brother’s ass. I just want to make sure that you are really ready to walk into that battlefield.”

“I need to walk it whether I’m ready or not,” Cas sighed. “It will only get worse the longer I put it off. And really, thirty odd years is long enough.”

“Thirty something?” Dean asked incredulously. “You swore you weren’t a day over twenty-nine. Does the charade never end, Castiel!”

Cas just rolled his eyes and absently tapped his fork against the table. "Regardless," he said, trying to bring them back on topic, "I'm still going over there tomorrow." He dropped his gaze to his plate before dragging it back up to Dean. "Will you come with me?"

Dean's playful front quickly fell away and he looked at Cas, his green eyes serious and sincere. "You think you really have to ask?"

 

********

 

A thick ceiling of low-hanging clouds had descended as Cas and Dean made their way to Cas' father's house, blocking the last weak rays of the day's light, and effectively cloaking the early December evening in a chilled and frosty darkness.The beginnings of the winter's first forecasted snow storm began to fall by the time Dean pulled into the driveway and softly gathering clumps of snowflakes accumulated noiselessly on the Impala's windshield as Dean eased the car to a stop.

He looked out across Cas' chest through the passenger side window at the hulking and intimidating facade of the house, his eyes as wide as saucers. The daunting mass of it, lit tastefully in clean and precise lines of white Christmas lights over each hard edge, combined with the gentle curtain of snow falling all around it, created an effect that was simultaneously beautiful and foreboding.

He settled back in the driver's seat, flexing his hands over the steering wheel. Cas shifted beside him, apprehension coming off of him in waves.

"Last time I'm gonna ask: you sure you wanna do this?"

He turned toward Cas, eyebrow arched, and felt his heart ache at the look of carefully guarded hopefulness he saw looking back at him. He knew Cas still held onto the optimism that maybe his father had not called him here to hurt him, but rather apologize for how horrifically he had treated his youngest son, even if Cas had not voiced that hope to Dean out loud; he could see it written all over his face.

Dean could understand Cas' desire to be accepted by his father, Christ could he ever, but he just couldn't shake the feeling that this so closely resembled a lamb being led to the slaughter.

Cas considered Dean's question for a long, quiet moment before nodding slowly. "Yes, Dean," he said, "I'm sure."

And with that, they climbed out of the car. They walked hand in hand across the flagstone driveway, their breath puffing out ahead of them as they stepped through the falling snow to the large oak door with a gaudy and expensive-looking wreath adorning it. Cas raised a trembling fist and knocked.

They stood in the cold for several minutes waiting for the door to open, Cas giving Dean’s taste in slacks another once over. Of course Dean had balked at the suit, off the rack but incredibly sexy, finally caving to the tune of a steak dinner, Cas’ treat.

As the seconds ticked by, Cas had a panicked thought - perhaps he’d been invited over just to be left out in the literal cold. His optimism starting to wane, he grabbed Dean’s hand to steady himself against getting pulled down by anxiety. Dean could feel Cas’ control starting to slip as the grip on his hand tightened to almost painful. He kissed the back of that hand and made Cas breathe, in then out, until they were ready to try again.

“It’s not too late to head back to my apartment,” Dean started, trying to break the tension. “I mean I have no problems bending you right over the couch instead of having dinner in this monkey suit.” He pointed to himself and then wiggled his eyebrows, making him finally smile, but Cas still nodded against it, determined to get this over and done.

With his free hand, Dean knocked on the door this time, a forceful pounding compared to Cas’ soft tapping. With a sigh of relief from Cas, the door swung open to a complaining Gabriel.

“Geez,” he huffed, “give a guy a break. It’s a big ass house.” He ushered them quickly out of the cold and helped them with their coats.

“Hey, Dean-o,” Gabe crooned, “hardly recognized your with clothes on.” He slapped Dean on the back and gave him his most gooey smile.

“I’m gonna get you back for that, G,” Dean leveled faux menacing eyes on the mischief-maker and leaned into his space just a tad, “I put in a good word for you with my receptionist, but one word from me…” Dean tossed up his hands and tilted his head, mock threat made, and flashed Gabe a smile of his own.

Cas watched the exchange from behind Dean and smiled himself. At least Gabe and B were here, and they would help. Gabe pulled Cas out from behind Dean, threw an arm over his shoulders and walked them into the library as usual.

“He’s shrewd, Casserole,” Gabe said as the crossed into the room. “He’s a keeper fo’ shizzle.”

Casrolled his eyes at Gabe’s colloquialism and mumbled his agreement. Dean kept a sharp eye on Cas, and didn’t like what he was seeing. His shoulders were slumped and he was avoiding eye contact, even though the three siblings present, Gabe, Balthazar and Anna, were safe as far as Dean was concerned. This was going to be a long night.

Dean tried to step in and maneuver himself between Cas and Gabe, but his boyfriend was handed off to B instead and Dean was left facing Anna, a big smile on her face.

“Are you less angry today?” she asked bluntly.

“Angry?” Dean asked, confused before he remembered their first and only meeting. “Right, angry. Listen, I am really sorry about that. I was having the most incredibly awful day and really didn’t mean to poop on your shopping trip.” He stuck his hand out to her. “Let’s start again. Hi, I’m Dean Winchester.”

Her face seemed to light up and Dean was struck by how she really did seem to glow. She grabbed his hand with a surprisingly firm grip and shook it heartily.

“Anna Novak, pleasure to meet you,” she smiled brightly and began to ask Dean question after question about his place of business, his home, anything that seemed to pop into her head. Dean nodded and smiled but wasn’t quite able to get a word in edgewise. As subtly as possible, his eyes began to dart around the room, looking for Cas to rescue him.

Castiel was in a conversation of his own and was actually grateful for the encouragement coming his way.

“What did I tell you, Cassie,” B was saying. “I knew that you were not as alone in this as you thought. He really seems to like you. And to come all this way? To meet us? Here? That takes a pair of balls I'm not sure I even have.”

“Seriously, Cas,” Gabe agreed. “I know you’ve had a few bumps, but just get through tonight and it should all be smooth sailing. What’s the worst thing Dad’s gonna say?”

“That’s I am disgusting, an abomination and a spineless coward,” Cas answered flatly.

“That’s not so bad,” Gabe answered with a grin, “It’s not like you’re gay or anything!” And he broke up laughing. B rolled his eyes and even Cas gave a half smile. He had heard it all and, now that they were here, he wasn’t worried for himself anymore. But what would Father have up his sleeve for Dean?

And then the realization that Luc was not there suddenly struck Cas like a cooling gale of wind puffing the slack sails of a stranded schooner. His mood lightened even more, hoping Luc would not come at all, because as hard as this dinner would probably be, it would be a easier to withstand without Luc siding with Father and escalating the severity of the attacks.

"Will Luc be joining us?" he asked his brothers.

Gabe shrugged. "He's usually here by now, if he's not tied up in some case at the courthouse."

Cas felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Dean holding his phone out toward him. "I just got a message from Sam that you'll probably want to see."

**[text] Just saw Luc having cocktails with Steve at a bar across the street from the law firm. Isn't he supposed to be there with you guys?**

Words failed Cas and all he could do was give Dean a tight nod. The news was only more kindling for Cas to throw on the pile of questions and mistrust and disbelief growing heavier in his heart where Luc was concerned. He had little time to dwell on it though as Father came into the library, seemingly drawing all the air from the room with the imposing authority he carried on his large frame.

Dean saw Cas stiffen next to him and automatically shifted closer to his side. He reached a pinky out, grazing a comforting touch across the back of Cas' hand in a move unseen by everyone. Everyone but Cas' father.

His ice-blue eyes locked on Dean like a predator targeting its prey and he stepped forward, a saccharine smile ticking up the corners of his mouth. Dean narrowly resisted the urge to shrink back.

A large meaty hand extended out toward Dean. “You must be Mr Winchester," he said, taking Dean's hand and pumping it twice, the very pretense of propriety. He completely ignored Cas at Dean's side. "So glad you could join us."

He released Dean's hand and stepped back, not giving Dean a chance to speak even if he wanted to, and spread his gaze around the room at all of his children, again skipping acknowledging Cas in any way. "I have had a very special dinner prepared in anticipation of tonight," he said, his commanding voice reverberating off the wood paneling in the library. "Won't you please join me in the dining room?"

Dean watched as the Novak siblings dutifully followed their father out, but reached a hand out for Cas' wrist, holding him back. Cas turned toward him, his face a study in weariness.

Dean tugged him close, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. "I'm right here, okay?" he whispered.

Cas nodded and gratefully accepted the kiss Dean offered him, drawing up love and reassurance right along with the sweet taste of Dean's mouth.

They walked into the dining room just as everyone was sitting down and were quickly ushered to their seats by the waitstaff. Cas cautioned a glance around the table as Dean sat down beside him, noting that Luc had still not arrived and sent up a silent prayer to whatever god would listen that he would not come at all.

A cart was suddenly wheeled through the dining room's archway, catching Cas' attention and immediate unease. A huge platter was in the middle of the cart, completely covered by a gleaming silver cloche.

Cas' shot a furtive glance to Father at the head of the table and saw him sit forward in his chair, eagerness shining in his eyes, as the platter was hoisted onto the table by two waiters. Cas swallowed nervously, but felt Dean's hand covering his under the table where it rested on his thigh. He looked to his right and returned the encouraging smile that Dean gave him, intertwining their fingers.

Father pushed his chair back from the table, standing and clearing his throat. Everyone turned their gazes toward him, waiting for him to begin. “In honor of our esteemed guests, I have chosen to serve you a dish that I believe will delight them beyond measure as it so closely resembles the tendencies they both share."

Father gave a wave of his hand and the cloche was removed to reveal a whole roasted pig, still in possession of its head, with an apple held in its open mouth. There was an audible gasp and all eyes turned to Dean, the newcomer to these festive events. Dean stared in shock at the carcass set before them on the table, body still pink and covered in coarse hairs.

“Is this a joke?” he asked, indignant at the implication the meal presented. He turned to Balthazar and then Gabriel for some sign of support, but they were silent in the face of this insult. He turned his attention to the head of the table and opened his mouth, but was interrupted by Luc making his grand entrance.

“My apologies,” he slurred and made his way to the first seat to the left of the head. His tie was crooked and he staggered a bit before plopping down in his seat. While the attention of the room was on him, his attention turned to the pig on the table.

“Wonderful choice, Father,” he said brightly, turning to Cas and then Dean in turn. “This meal seems more than fitting for our guests.” He leaned heavily towards his frowning father, murmuring before turning back to the rest of the table.

“I would guess that this is the righteous man, Dean Winchester.” He waved an unsteady hand in Dean’s direction. “How good of you to take an interest in our little lamb,” he hissed, his smile as crooked as his tie and no where near his eyes.

“What did you just say?” Dean’s hackles were up. He didn’t care what Castiel was willing to take, he was not going to let these freaks disrespect them. It was Cas’ turn to be reassuring and placed a quieting hand on Dean’s knee.

“You see, Mr. Winchester,” Father began, leaning back in his chair, “our dear Castiel has been a little lamb lost in the wilderness searching for a place to lay his pretty head. He sought comfort in _many_ warm places, but has never had the courage to bring any of these warm spots home with him. You must be quite the righteous man to take him in as damaged as he is, and for that I wanted to thank you.”

Dean’s mouth fell open at this flowery insult but he quickly found his voice. “First off, asshat.”

The room erupted as Luc began a defense of his father and Balthazar and Gabriel began their defense of Dean. But they were silenced with a wave of Father’s hand and he motioned for Dean to continue, an indulgent air to his gesture.

Dean suppressed a growl. “I know that you don’t approve of Cas’ lifestyle, but he’s family and family doesn’t treat each other like animals. Where do you get off all high and mighty? I’m sure as hell you have something just as ugly in your closet.”

It was Luc who jumped on his words. “So you will admit that it is ugly, this thing you do?”

Dean’s cheeks blushed an angry red. “You shut your fuckin’ mouth,” he yelled, pointing an accusing finger across the table. “What goes down in our private lives is just that, _private_. Just as much as yours. You’re brothers, for fuck’s sake, how can you turn on him like this?”

"Can we please just..." Balthazar began, desperately attempting to ease the tension, but Luc held up a hand, silencing him.  Anna had begun to cry and Balthazar put a protective arm around her, turning to Luc again to chastise his crass behavior. Gabriel joined him and they were instantly bickering again.

Cas buried his head in his hands for a moment before turning to Dean.

“You were right,” he whispered, “I didn’t need to come here.” He tossed his napkin on his empty plate, ready to push back his seat to leave, but froze when the next words fell from Lucifer’s mouth, vociferously carrying over the din.

_“Integrity_ , Dean,” Lucifer answered, smug satisfaction in his voice. “I’m not a lust filled _bitch_ ready to bend over for anyone who asks. Nor am I a two-bit whore chasing married men.”

Cas’ saw Dean’s face pale considerably and suddenly he’d had enough. His family could humiliate and abuse him as much as they wanted, but there was no way in _hell_ he’d let them bring Dean into this. A bitter and long unrequited fury suddenly burned through him like an uncontrollable conflagration, searing away the last remnants of his self-control. "I fail to see how that is any business of yours," he said, his voice pitched low and dripping with venom.

"I seem to remember," Luc said loudly, drawing Cas' narrowed gaze, "that Father told you that you would not be welcome back into this house until you had decided that your ties to this family were valued above the life of _sin_ you had aligned yourself with." Father sat back in his chair leaning his head against his fist, as if watching a sporting event.

Cas' heart contracted painfully and he sat forward, laying his palms flat on the table with a thump that rattled the fine china. "You cannot expect me to choose between my family and my own self-identity!" he cried incredulously.

"So you admit that it's true then, that you have deserted your faith and family in favor of your abhorrent _lust_?" Luc spat vindictively.

Cas swallowed thickly against the lump in his throat, feeling the already oppressively confining room close in on him even more and he shot to his feet, his shaking hands balling into fists at his sides. “I only admit that I have chosen to remain true to myself because continuing to live a lie, even for Father's approval, was destroying me with each and every _single_ breath I took."

Luc stood then too, stabbing his finger down onto the table, "Then you have turned your back on this family as surely as you have your faith. You are a failure as a brother and a son, and you will not be welcome under this roof again until you plead for forgiveness from the church and God Himself."

The words struck Cas a near-debilitating blow and he felt angry tears begin to burn hotly at the backs of his eyes. Both Gabe and B drew sharp gasps. Father only continued to smile smugly.

Dean placed a reassuring hand on Castiel’s arm, shining sad but loving eyes up at him. Those eyes, emeralds like the ocean depths, holding fathoms of devotion, were what set his mind on the steady course he decided to follow in that moment. He turned his own icey eyes on Luc and asked his question.

“Why were you late, Lucifer?”

Caught off guard by the seemingly simple question, Luc was only able to blurt out an unbecoming, “What?” and looked at the others at the table.

“Why were you late and drunk arriving tonight?” Cas asked again. He straightened to his full height and and narrowed his eyes at his brother. “I guess we can always ask Steve to remind you if you fail to remember on your own.”

Father finally spoke up at this and leaned forward, “How dare you throw such an accusation? Pointing fingers will do you no good, Castiel. You take responsibilty or you leave.”

“ _Responsibility_?” Cas asked, spitting the word out like sour milk. “Let’s talk about taking responsibility.” He turned back to Luc and placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I believe it is a crime to knowingly assist an abuser to harass their victim in a domestic violence situation. Surely you knew of Jacob’s history. As a lawyer, I’m sure you understand the importance of knowing all the facts to a case.”

The usually articulate Lucifer simply stared at Cas as if his words were a foreign language and he had no translator. “What?” he asked again.

“Is it really your style, Luci, to send a violent abuser to pay a visit to his victim? I mean you can play dirty, but that is low even for you.”

All eyes, wide and shocked, swept to Luc, awaiting an answer to the heavy accusation Cas had just laid down. Luc only floundered, his mouth opening and closing in a humorless parody of a fish. He blinked rapidly, suddenly finding his words. “How dare you implicate me in such a thing!” he cried, hectic spots of red blooming high on his cheeks. “That is _slander_ and no one will believe you!” He glanced frantically around the table for supporters, but no one would look him in the eye.

Cas pulled his teeth back over his lips in a feral grin at his victory, then glanced to his father, all timidness evaporating under the burn of a long-suppressed rage. “You do realize he is like this because of you, right? That he has only learned this _inhumanity_ from you?”

Father had the audacity to look offended. “I have done nothing but sacrifice myself to provide for this family, and this is how you repay me?”

Cas scoffed incredulously and he leaned forward, placing his palms flat on the table. “If you truly believe that you have done all that a father should for his children, then you are the one who is living a lie. Just as Luc has been doing for god only knows how long.”

Father pushed to his feet roughly, throwing his chair backward into the wall behind him hard enough to crack the plaster. Hell-fire burned hotly in his eyes and he levelled his finger at Cas near the opposite end of the table in a gesture that normally would have had Cas bowing his head in weak submission. “If that accusation of Luc’s morality were even _remotely_ true it would be because your sinful nature infects everyone you come in contact with.” He shot a disgusted look at Dean before looking back at Cas and continuing, “You, Castiel, have fallen in every way imaginable. The very _touch_ of you corrupts. And I will be damned if I _ever_ allow you under this roof again.”

Cas tilted his chin up defiantly and motioned to Dean to stand so they could leave. “Is that a promise?” he asked, sarcasm dripping from his words like vinegar.

Father turned an alarming shade of red as Cas quickly turned on his heel and stepped long, determined strides to the foyer with Dean following right behind him. But Dean stopped suddenly at the dining room door and turned to face the stunned diners.

"Thanks for having us," he said, cheeky grin lighting up his face. "You guys sure know how to party." He gave a small bow, then waved and followed Cas to the foyer.

Chaos erupted in loud furious shouts as they quickly threw on their coats and exited Father’s house for the very last time.

Dean was jogging up ahead of Cas through a thickening veil of snow, practically bursting with pride, keys at the ready, when they suddenly heard Luc’s voice coming up behind them. “Castiel, stop!”

Cas only kept walking, his brisk steps trudging into the thick layer of freshly fallen snow at his feet.

Luc’s voice was even closer and more incensed as he screamed: “You _will_ tell me how you found out about Steve! Goddammit, Cas. DO NOT WALK AWAY FROM ME!”

The sudden feel of Luc’s hand on his shoulder snapped something deep inside of Castiel, setting off every single instance Luc had humiliated and berated and insulted him in a flashbang of repressed memories. And all that rage, all that primal _loathing_ , burst forth, blinding Cas with the ferocity of the hatred flowing through him.

He spun around, bringing his fist up as he did so, planting one foot back and laying into Luc’s face right behind him with as much force as he could muster. He could _feel_ Luc’s nose shatter under his knuckles and the sickening crunch brought him a disturbing sense of triumph.

Blood exploded from Luc’s nose, spattering the virgin snow beneath him in a fine ruby spray, and Luc fell back on his ass, his hands coming up to cover his face, his eyes wide and disbelieving. A piercing and incredulous shriek erupted from Luc’s mouth as blood poured from between his fingers.

“Y-You son of a bitch!” Luc screeched, blood running down over his lips and chin to stain his six-hundred dollar Gucci shirt.

Cas bent forward, his hands still squeezed into fists, and leaned in close. Luc flinched back and Cas grinned. “Takes one to know one, Lucifer.”

The front door opening pulled Castiel’s intense gaze from Luc to Balthazar who was still buttoning his coat as he stepped into the night air. Casually, he walked down the pathway to stand next to Cas, hands in his pockets and looked down at Luc, still rolling in the snow, blood now overwhelming his hands.

“You did this, Cassie?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Yes,” Cas growled, looking back at his fallen brother.

“Good.” B replied. “Gabriel and Anna will be along any moment. She’ll stay with him for a few days, I suppose. We’ll figure something out for her once _he’s_ settled down.” B looked down the drive to Dean, standing against the driver’s side watching their exchange with a childlike grin.

“You’ve always had little old me,” B placed a hand on Cas’ shoulder and then nodded towards Dean, “but I’m glad you’ve found him.”

Cas smiled his appreciation and left B to help Luc to his feet. As he approached the Impala, he blushed a bit under Dean’s ridiculously wide grin. He eyes were even slightly glazed and  swayed a bit on his feet, as if drunk.

“What?’ Cas asked when he reached the passenger side.

“I have the most stupid boner right now,” Dean announced to him quietly. “Like really, if you’d have hit him again, I would have come in my pants. No lie.”

A heated ribbon of arousal slipped down Cas' spine and coiled low in his belly at Dean's words and he looked over the snow covered roof of the Impala to see Dean staring back at him. The intense desire shining from Dean's eyes proved that he was indeed nowhere near lying and Cas felt his heart rate kick up exponentially and  he scrambled for the door handle. Driven by the adrenaline still pumping frantically through his veins from the argument in his father's house and the resultant _altercation_ with his brother, it all mixed fluidly with the sudden rush of want beating against him. The combination was absolutely intoxicating.

He flung himself into the car just as Dean slid into the driver's side and then Cas was all over him, hands grabbing at Dean's coat, lips latching onto the exposed skin at his neck, cock straining painfully against the front of his slacks, pressing against Dean's hip.

Dean groaned and the noise reverberated around the inside of the car, shaking into Cas' bones. "Cas, I don't think this is such a great idea right now," he ground out. "We're still in the _driveway._ "

Cas chuckled darkly, sucking a mark over Dean's pulse-point. "Don't care."

Dean chuckled too and pushed Cas back gently before reaching to turn over the ignition. "Let's get home first at least," he said, shooting Cas a sexy sideways grin.

_Home._ The word resonated sharply in Cas' brain and he couldn't help the smile that broke across his mouth. Because if home was where the heart was, then _anywhere_ with Dean was home for Cas.

Cas licked his lips thoughtfully and jerked his head toward the road laying out before the windshield. "Then let's go."

He leaned forward, undoing Dean's pants with a sure flick of his wrist and Dean gasped loudly, peeling out of the driveway as Cas ducked his head down and gave Dean a repeat performance of that first night they met.


	19. Chapter 19

By the time they reached Dean's front door, Cas was nearly on the verge of exploding. He had tortured Dean the whole ride home, licking and sucking at his cock until Dean was panting and squirming and his own jaw ached.

He had somehow staved off both of their orgasms with a tight grip around the base of Dean's dick and his own by sheer force of will, his original thought being that the strength of their releases would be that much more great if they could just wait. But now, with his cock harder than it had ever been, he wondered why we thought this was a good idea in this first place.

Cas was practically crawling on Dean as he tried to unlock the door with shaking hands. When the lock clicked something in his head did too, an idea he’d been mulling over finally falling into place.

He shoved Cas off of him roughly and pushed the door open with enough force to make it bounce back against the inside wall. He grabbed a stunned Cas by the coat front and shoved him over the threshold, shutting the door behind them with his foot. He unbuttoned his coat and motioned for Cas to do the same as he spoke.

“Let’s play a game, Cas,” he began. Something feral crossed his face, settling around his eyes and on his cheekbones. “The winner gets to top.”

He yanked his his tie free and it snapped back on itself like a whip. He dropped it to the floor and took slow but determined steps towards Cas.

“What?" Cas gulped. Did he hear correctly? Did Dean just offer himself as a prize?

Dean rested his forearms on Cas’ shoulders and let his tongue slid across Cas’ lips before continuing. “See, I haven't wanted to be fucked this bad since forever.” Cas closed his eyes at the foul language, heat racing down to his belly. “But I need you to want it as bad as I do, buddy. I want you to take it.”

Dean leaned in even closer and Cas opened his mouth for a kiss, another sigh escaping to flow against Dean’s face. But rather than a moist mouth, Cas found himself suddenly bent over the couch, his arms trapped in the sleeves of his suit jacket. Dean leaned over him, rubbing his erection against Cas’ backside,are and whispered in his ear.

“I’m not giving in that easy,” Dean chuckled darkly. “I thought about you inside me all the way here. Your mouth all wet and suckling just … and all I could think about was my ass suckling you that same way.”

Cas grunted at the image and stomped on Dean’s foot, making him stagger back. It was Dean’s turn to feel the press as Cas turned, swept his leg across Dean’s and then landed on him, holding Dean’s arms over his head.

“I want it,” Cas growled, the rush of power making his face flush.

Dean’s wicked smile didn’t waver as he bucked his hips hard, bouncing Cas up and off of him. He wasted no time tackling Cas again and they were soon rolling around between the couch and the bar, each fighting for the right to dominate tonight.

Dean found himself on his belly, cheek smashed against the floor, with Cas on his back. He pushed himself up to to all fours, but Cas snaked an arm under Dean’s chest, grabbing his shirt to keep from falling off. The buttons gave and spilled across the carpet, Cas falling down to his bottom, Dean turning quickly to wedge himself between Cas’ thighs. Castiel reached up, grabbing the two halves of the broken shirt, tugging Dean down for a kiss as a distraction, using the slightly larger man’s weight against him, and pushed him up and over to land on his back.

Castiel scrambled to his feet to stand over a panting Dean. He fell to Dean’s chest then, knees holding his arms down, curling his body forward so that their faces were inches apart. Dean kicked his legs, but couldn’t get near enough to Cas to grab him and he was seated too high to be bucked off again.

Cas grinned smugly at his victory, straightening away from Dean's face to catch his breath. Dean’s mouth fell open in defeat for a moment before his wicked smile returned. He leaned his head forward and let his hot breath flow heavy against Cas’ bulging crotch.

“You win, buddy,” Dean growled. His eyes were still dark, his voice still sounding more predator than prey, and Cas had to stifle back the unbecoming whine that tried working its way out of his throat.

Dean was offering himself up to Cas, for Cas to take, and in a way he had not allowed anyone to in a long time. The weighty significance of it filled Cas' heart to near bursting and he had to rapidly blink back the tears crowding his eyes, fiercely determined to make this good for Dean, to make it a night he'd never forget.

He stroked his hands up Dean's arms then let out a sigh and slid down Dean's chest, rubbing his still clothed, still engorged dick along Dean's flushed and exposed skin until he was grinding right against Dean's straining member, hidden under his slacks.

Cas brought his head down, bypassing Dean's searching lips, and settled his mouth right at the soft cup of his ear. "Time to claim my prize," he breathed out hoarsely.

Dean shuddered beneath him and Cas suddenly felt Dean's hands in his hair, tangling firmly in the strands. He let out a surprised sound as Dean wrenched his head to the side, tugging Cas down and smashing their mouths together in a rough assault. Dean's teeth were sinking into the plump skin of his bottom lip, his tongue thrusting deeply into Cas' mouth, his hot breath racing down Cas' throat, his cock humping up toward Cas relentlessly, and it all nearly pushed Cas' over the edge.

He shoved up from Dean's chest, a moan catching deep in his throat. He didn't want to come like this, and he didn't want Dean to either, not when he had so much planned for him.

Dean looked up at him, lips puffy and kiss-swollen, eyes blown nearly to black with arousal, unfailing and absolute trust shining all across his upturned face. Cas was almost struck completely speechless by the staggering depth of the love he felt for Dean in that moment and stumbled over his words as he climbed off of Dean. "B - Bed. Now."

He hopped up on unsteady legs, offering a hand to Dean. Dean accepted and Cas tugged him to his feet, earning himself another heated kiss.

“You’re the boss,” Dean quipped and and made his way to the bedroom. He slid his broken shirt from his shoulders and stood next to the bed awaiting his next command. Dean wasn’t sure exactly where his sudden need to submit would end, but giving Cas the space to flex his muscles just felt _so_ right.

After watching him stand up for himself, and for them, he knew Cas needed to be stroked just right lest he slip back into doubt and self pity. Cas had followed him blindly since that first night and although the trust that had been placed at his feet made him bow down to Cas in gratitude and want to rise a better man, he would not miss this opportunity to help Castiel understand that he didn’t have to follow but was strong enough to lead them both as well.

His hands shook at the prospect of giving in and letting Cas have him, not because he was afraid of disappointing Cas or himself, but because he knew that tonight, like the night a week ago, they were about to cross another threshold of faith in each other. Dean was determined to see that door shatter in the wake of their shared conviction - that the man standing beside him was the one created to make him whole.

Cas stood in the doorway, his desires and Dean's playful behavior seemingly at war in his mind. He ached to make tender love to Dean, open him slowly and let them both drown in agonizing pleasure as he slipped in and out of Dean's body. But Dean wasn't playing fair and his teasing made Cas wonder what he had in mind for them.

"Tell me what you want me to do, boss," Dean's voice was guttural and he ran a slow hand over his chest, scratching his nipple as he passed.

Again, he'd called him boss and then waited. Castiel felt stupid for a moment when he realized the game Dean was really playing; letting Castiel navigate them through the boundless pleasure to come. He was asking for both hard and needy. Soft and sweet would be tabled for the moment and Cas would do his best to oblige the suddenly intertwined need. Because it wasn't as if Cas didn't have it in him, he had actually played both sides of that coin back in his reckless college days - he had only been holding it back, savoring the tenderness between them.

But if Dean was truly asking Cas for this, for the show of authority, then of course Cas would most surely give it to him; he was, in fact, honored to be the one to do it. He just had to make absolutely sure Dean understood that there were safeguards that would be in place so that Cas would not unwittingly hurt him.

“Yes, Dean, you’re right. I am the boss tonight. And as your boss, I have a few rules you must follow for me.” Cas sauntered forward, easily slipping back into the commanding persona he had sometimes used before he joined the seminary. He had gladly lost it since then, but tonight it came roaring back in full force at his father’s house.

Dean cocked his head to the side, listening intently, a gleam of excitement highlighting the varying shades of green in his eyes as Cas came to a stop less than a hand's breadth away. “First, you need to understand that we’re going to use safewords tonight,” he held up his hand, counting off, “Green means ‘Everything’s fine’, Yellow means ‘Don’t stop but don’t do anything harder than that’ and Red means ‘Stop everything right now’. Do you understand?” he asked.

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I get it. What’s the second ru-”

Cas cut off his words, his deep voice taking a more gravelly timbre, “Say it, Dean.”

Dean’s mouth swung shut for a moment, eyes wide in confusion, “Say what?”

“Say the colors, so _I_ know that _you_ know what they are.” His voice brooked no argument and he crossed his arms across his chest.

“Green means ‘Yes, keep going’, Yellow means ‘Whoa, let’s take it a little easy’,” he paused, swallowing hard, “and Red means stop.”

Cas gave Dean a smile and Dean blushed, the prospect of submission making him hot and anxious at the same time.

“Good, now the only other rule is that you use those words. And when I ask you what color, you tell me and tell me honestly. Okay?”

Dean nodded his understanding and waited quietly for Cas to tell him what to do next.

Cas took a step back to give himself enough space to slip his tie from his neck and unbutton his dress shirt. When he was completely naked but for his slacks and shoes, he motioned to the space before him. “Dean, I want you to come over here and suck my cock.”

Desire darkened Dean’s eyes and he immediately knelt down, unbuttoning Cas’ pants and pulling down the zipper with the utmost care. He tugged the slacks and Cas’ boxers down over the curve of his ass and looked up just as he settled his mouth over Cas’ hardened member. Cas let out a groan at the sensation of being pulled into the wet heat of Dean’s mouth and brought his hands down to tangle in the short strands of Dean’s hair. He slowly thrust his hips forward, pushing Dean almost down the entire length of him before pulling on Dean’s hair to tug him back off.

“Color?” he asked gently. He looked down at Dean, his heart thumping wildly at the level of trust he saw on Dean’s upturned face.

“Green,” came Dean’s quick reply, “Definitely green.” They shared anxious smiles before sinking back into character.

Cas sighed and then clenched his jaw when Dean's lips found him again. Hands still lost in his hair, he thrust a second time, forcing his cock to drag against the roof of Dean's mouth. He straightened his back, thrusting his hips forward with a harder rhythm, arching into it to give Dean as much access as possible. He closed his eyes and listened to the wet slurping and muffled gagging, relishing the sensation as it rolled down to his toes.

Feeling his body inching towards the edge, he pushed Dean back roughly and let him fall back on his butt.

"That was well done," Castiel crooned, his eyes tracing over Dean sprawled on the floor. He watched with a stern expression as Dean wiped the wetness from his mouth and then reach for Cas' cock again. His hand was swatted away and a rebellious grin inched up Dean's lips.

"Not me, Dean," Cas ordered as he tucked himself back into his slacks. "I want to watch you touch yourself."

Propped up on his elbows, Dean's smile melded from rebellious to sensual and he slid a hand over the bulge in his slacks, mumbling 'green' without being asked.

Locking eyes with Castiel again, he propped himself up against the bed and squeezed his member through the materiel forcing a tiny wet spot to appear. Dean took his time unzipping his pants and pulling his hardened dick out. He was putting on a show and, although Cas was going for impassive, Dean could see the tick in his jaw that told him he was doing it right.

His pants now to his knees, Dean ran one hand from base to head while the other slid down to caress his balls. He brought one knee up to open himself up to Cas' view and his own touch when Cas leaned down to tug off his pants and socks.

"Turn over," Castiel barked.

Dean was startled but he obeyed, scrambling to his knees and pressing his face to the carpet. With his ass in the air, Dean felt a stab of apprehension but he could still see Cas standing beside him, making no moves to touch him.

"Color?" Cas' voice boomed again. He swallowed thickly, his arousal was cooled by the apprehension that skittered across Dean's face.

Dean was slow to respond, but was comfortable enough with his green. He closed his eyes and began to stroke again. He frowned against what his mind filled in what he must look like to Cas right now, ass up and presented like a trophy. He pushed the thoughts aside in favor of the sensation of his hands on his flesh and pulled up the memory of Castiel’s hands working in their place.

His grip was sure and he took slow strokes at first, running his thumb over the tip then twisting his wrist on the way down to the base. His other hand roamed free over his inner thighs and sac, tugging and gripping hard at intervals. His breath was soon coming in gulps and he was moving his hips to add friction to his grip.

That's when Cas' voice rang out again, hoarse but firm. "Finger yourself for me, Dean."

Dean felt a stutter interrupt his strokes and he paused. The prospect made him unsteady and he folded himself back into a clamshell before moving back into place and sliding his hand over his opened ass.

He couldn't see Cas anymore, but he could feel him near, could feel him when he finally moved behind to watch his fingers work. Dean slowed his strokes to focus on his hole. He ran the tip of his index finger around the furled skin before pressing in gently. His entire backside seemed to spread wider at the sensation and he gingerly pressed further, up to the second knuckle.

Cas could see the tension creeping into Dean's movements and asked for a color.

"Yellow," Dean whimpered and then stuttered, "just yellow." He gave no other explanation, but continued to move his hands and attempted a moan, the sound usually like honey sounded forced.

Yellow meant go easy so Cas decided to stop making demands and just watch him work. His hands itched to replace Dean's, but the sight was too captivating to stop - Dean pleasuring himself was more beautiful a vision than Cas had intended and his need to touch him as well was making him crazy.

Playing the role of Dom was taking a toll on his conscience, but he stepped out of his remaining clothes and knelt behind Dean. Need for contact overwhelmed him and he placed his hands on Dean's hips. His strokes were becoming erratic and his finger was moving in angry spasms. A frustrated growl filled the room as Dean stopped all of his activity and sat up to face Castiel.

"Red dammit," he spat impatiently. "Just red.”

Cas was momentarily stunned and jerked back from Dean immediately, hoping against hope that he hadn’t just ruined it all by being overeager or too domineering.  

Dean huffed out a sigh and grabbed for Cas’ neck, jerking him forward to press one forehead to the other. “ _I_ don't want to fuck me. I want _you_ to do it,” he said, his voice low and rough.

"Dean, I don't think this is working," Cas said softly, because it was true, something about it all felt a little off and a little too forced. He was suddenly and uncomfortably unsure that this was really what Dean wanted, even if he said it was.

Dean's mouth fell into a frown. "I know, but I really need you to understand how strong you are. I love you and trust you and I'm so proud of you for standing up to your father."

Cas pulled back and moved his hand to Dean's thigh, up near his hip. "I know you trust me, Dean. You don't have to prove it to me like this.You only belong to me because I belonged to you first, remember?"

Dean was quiet then, his eyes a deep verdant green as he studied Castiel's face. Castiel studied him back, running his fingers over Dean's seemingly delicate features, the need he wanted to convey swirling in his mind.

It solidified into a compromise, "How about we stare longingly into each other's eyes and try to convey our undying love and devotion?"

Dean chuckled but seemed satisfied and followed Castiel's direction as wholeheartedly as possible.

"Green," he finally whispered.

A broad grin broke across Cas' face and he leaned forward slowly, bringing his lips flush against Dean’s, languidly drinking in the taste of him. He pulled back after a moment, both men gasping for breath, before centering his gaze on Dean’s face, just inches from his own. “Why don’t we move this up to the bed?” he asked, brow arched impishly.

Dean answered his question by standing and pulling Cas to his feet gently. He then sat down on the bed, sinking into the plush mattress and scooted back until he was in the middle, flat on his back. He held his hands out for Cas, silently beckoning him forward.

Cas quickly joined him on the bed, crawling up Dean’s body, mouthing wet kisses as he went - along Dean’s shins, his thighs, the soft sensitive skin just above the dark thatch of curls ringing the base of his cock - marking, claiming, worshipping every inch of skin that he could reach until his mouth finally met with Dean’s again.

"Color?" he asked against the corner of Dean's lips, rolling his hips down to grind enticingly along the length of Dean's cock with his own achingly hard flesh.

Dean's reply of 'green' was just the barest hint of breath washing into Cas' open mouth. He inhaled the word, drawing the air from Dean's lungs into his own, feeling more connected to Dean in that moment than in the stilted play they had just attempted.There might come a time where they could try to act out those roles again, when Cas could teach Dean to follow him as lovingly as he was able to lead him, how to play that part as an equal, like it was supposed to be.

Eventually he would help him unlearn the wrongs his former lover had instilled, but for now, Cas wanted him just like this, skin pressed to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat, closer than two people could possibly be, as partners in every way imaginable.

Cas' brought his hand up as he continued to move his mouth against Dean's hungrily, caressing the side of Dean's neck, feeling his palm slide against the sweat-slick skin. He pulled back slightly, bringing his fingers up to his lips for a taste of the wet salt coating them. They had barely touched the tip of his tongue when he felt Dean's hand clamp down over his wrist. He immediately stilled, looking down at him.

Dean's eyes were wide and pleading, his gaze dropping to Cas' fingers buried deep in his mouth. "Please, Cas," he whispered hoarsely, "I can't take it anymore. I _need_ to feel you inside me. _Please_."

Cas' heart stopped, he swore it did. And then, when Dean tugged Cas' fingers from his mouth and stuck them in his own, sucking on them wetly, it promptly jumped up into his throat. He let out a strangled moan at the sight of his fingers disappearing past Dean's plush lips. Dean watched Cas' eyes darken and then he was nodding, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly as he swallowed. Dean let Cas slide his fingers from his mouth, groaning when he felt a thick line of saliva trail down his chin when the digits were pulled free.

Cas pushed himself up to his knees, nudging Dean's legs apart on either side of his bent knees and brought his spit-slick fingers down to Dean's hole, pressing one in tentatively. It was an exquisite feeling, being breached, but it didn't give Dean the fullness his body cried for.

"Cas, " he gasped, pushing down hard onto Cas' finger. "Cas, please, I'm not going to be more ready than I already am."

Cas shivered above him, but he shook his head, his sweat-damp hair swishing into his eyes. He kept his gaze cast down to where his finger slipped in and out of Dean's body, concentration drawing his brows together. "I have to make sure, Dean. I don't want to hurt you."

Dean brought his hands up, framing Cas' face, forcing him to look at him. "You won't hurt me, okay? You never could."

Cas stared down at him, eyes full of a deeper love than Dean had ever seen, and it completely stole his breath away. And then Cas nodded and all the air that had just fled his lungs came flowing back in with a gratifying rush. He let his hands fall away from Cas' face as he withdrew his finger from Dean and stretched over him to grab a bottle of lube and a condom from the bedside table.

He settled back down between Dean's spread legs, his eyes raking over Dean’s body as he ripped open the foil condom wrapper. But once again, Dean's fingers wrapping around his wrist stopped Cas' movements.

Cas drug his eyes up slowly. "Dean? "

"I've been tested and I know you have too, we’ve talked about it. We're both clean, Cas." The air between them settled into a motionless hush as Cas breathlessly waited for Dean to continue. "When I said I want to feel you inside me, I mean just you, Cas. No barriers between us. _Just you_."

"Oh, Dean," Cas rasped, blinking his eyes rapidly. He tossed the condom to the side and grabbed up the lube instead, making quick work of slicking his cock. He guided it to Dean's quivering hole and began pushing in slowly.

Dean moaned loudly at the intrusion and threw his head back. The stretching burn of Cas' thick cock entering him had him tightening up instinctively and Cas quickly brought a hand down to Dean's hip, rubbing soothingly.

"You've got to relax, Dean," he said softly. "I love you, please let me in."

Dean pulled in a deep breath, blowing it out gradually, and soon felt his body begin to loosen and open to Cas. Cas made a gentle noise of praise and continued to press forward, his length squeezed fiercely by Dean's outer ring. He pulled back a fraction, letting the wet lubricant do its work, before plunging forward again, inching closer to his goal.

Under him, Dean seemed to open like a foil-wrapped chocolate, decadent and sticky. He let out a breath as Cas inched forward again, finally reaching his fill, and rolled his hips to accommodate himself to the stretch. Chest to chest, they moved together, Dean up and Cas down, each milking the other for ecstasy. Dean’s hands searched for purchase across Cas’ shoulders, back and hips, finally grabbing and pulling hard on his ass, grunting with pleasure. Cas too needed an anchor and planted his elbows on either side of Dean’s head, placing cheek against his forehead, driving down hard now.

“More,” Dean ground out, taking the still bruised skin of Cas’ shoulder between his teeth. The rush of pain chased a moan from Cas’ lips and he tossed his head back, exposing his throat for teeth, lips and tongue. Dean’s hands slithered their way into Cas’ hair, fisting on both sides and forcing him down for a harsh kiss.

And suddenly they were frantic, writhing against each other and falling down the rabbit hole of need. Dean grunted again and pushed Castiel up and off of him, gasping for breath. Jaw clenched, Cas waited impatiently for Dean to speak, to move, to do _something_ , as his cock throbbed achingly deep in Dean's ass.

And Dean did indeed do something. He shoved Cas onto his back none too gently and climbed over him just to lean back and sink down, hard and fast. He tossed his head back and rolled his hips again, the pleasure making him blind for a moment as the head of Cas’ cock brushed against his prostate. He’d found the sweet spot and would now ride Castiel into ragged orgasm.

Cas was in awe and let his mouth fall open as waves of pleasure poured over him. The sensation of Dean’s passage massaging him, stroking him, pleasing him, were just accentuated by the vision of Dean above him. His back was arched and the sweat beading on his chest rocked gently with the sway of his hips. Cas watched as Dean’s freckled cheeks flushed, that something feral resting on his cheekbones again.

And then he was close, so close, and he was sure that Dean was at the precipice as well, his hole clenching and unclenching uncontrollably around him. Cas reached out to grasp Dean’s cock, to pull him over the edge, so close now that they only need jump.

Dean planted his hands down on Cas' chest for leverage against his rapid and erratic rises and falls, moaning loudly when Cas' fingers finally _finally_ wrapped around him. The arousal that had been building so relentlessly suddenly tightened low in his gut, shoving him violently over the crest of completion before he even knew it was happening. He slammed down onto Cas, taking him as deep as he could, crying out Cas’ name with a scream that left his throat raw, as staggering amounts of come spurted from his spasming cock, still held in Cas’ tight grip. Pearly strings of hot fluid splattered down across Cas’ belly and chest, reaching even as high as his chin.

Cas looked up at Dean with wide eyes, his lips pressed together in a tight line, and suddenly Dean found himself being flipped to the side and maneuvered bodily to his knees before he could even let out a husky grunt or word of protest. One of Cas’ hands was on his hip, coaxing his ass up, the other pressing his shoulders down with a gentle insistence. And then Cas was slipping back inside him, sliding in with hardly any resistance from Dean’s body at all. Dean moaned brokenly at the fullness Cas’ cock lent to him and fisted his hands into the sheets beneath him.

Cas stared down at Dean before him, taking in the sight of the perfect lines of Dean’s back, memorizing the way the thick cords of muscle just under his freckled skin bunched with the effort to push back onto his dick. He brought both hands down to Dean’s hips, pumping him forward wildly, stunned by the easy acceptance of Dean’s lax hole swallowing him up.

Dean sobbed out Cas’ name, the sound of it muffled by the bedding beneath him, and all at once  Cas’ breath was punched from his lungs and he was coming hard, harder than he ever had before. He gripped at Dean’s hips, holding Dean tightly against him as emptied his spend into him in a heated, pulsing rush.

He sagged forward weakly after his dick had stopped pulsing, pressing a tender kiss between the curved angles of Dean’s shoulder blades, and pulled his quickly softening cock from Dean’s body. The sight he was treated to, of Dean’s hole gaping and red, dripping out thick dribbles of Cas’ own release, shorted out all coherent thought from Cas’ brain and all he could do was curl forward and settle his mouth against his entrance for a taste.

Dean bucked back roughly at that first feel of Cas’ tongue against his oversensitized skin and he dug his fingers into the sheets beneath him hard enough to shred the fabric. He thought he might have heard Cas mutter the word ‘color’ behind him, and he rocked into Cas’ mouth. “Green!” he shouted. “Oh fucking Christ, green!”

A low groan rumbled in Cas’ chest at Dean’s hearty consent and he brought his hands up to spread him wider. He pursed his lips, sealing them around Dean’s hole, and hollowed his cheeks as he began to suck. Dean shuddered beneath him, a full-body tremor that vibrated into Cas’ skin, and he keened loudly, back bowing, pushing back even more against Cas’ mouth.

Cas kneaded Dean’s cheeks with his hands, a surprised moan catching at the back of his throat when the warm come he had just emptied into the love of his life came streaming back into his mouth. The taste was like nothing he had ever experienced - a heady mix of Dean’s unique flavor and the saltiness of his own spend - and he let it set on his tongue for a moment, savoring it, before swallowing it down in one satisfying gulp.

He released Dean from his grip, and Dean immediately sank down onto the bed, all strength gone. Cas followed right after him, sinking down to the mattress in a breathless, panting heap.

“That was so much better than, dom/sub,” Dean mumbled between gasps. “Why did we even try that?”

“Suck me hard, pet," Cas grunted, his voice a mockery of his authoritative tone, "That's so good, pet, just like that."

Dean's head popped up from the bed and he eyed Cas incredulously for a moment. "Ok so 'pet' is a big red. Huge fucking red."

"Um, how about baby boy?" Cas suggested, rolling onto his side to reach out and caress the lobe of Dean’s ear.

"Ew," Dean answered, "that's what I called Sam when we were kids."

His beautiful features contoured into a grimace so quickly, Cas barked out a laugh. "You had sex with Sam? That is ew!" Dean's swat to his backside helped curb the giggles.

“Ouch!,” Cas let out an exaggerated yelp. “I’m the Dom, remember? No hitting the Dom.”

Dean rolled to his side, pulled Castiel under him and blew raspberries into his neck, making him try to squirm away. His laughter and pleas for mercy filled the room but Dean showed no quarter until Cas took it back - he was not the Dom and it was completely okay to smack his ass.

“Whenever!” he cried out, forcing Dean to relent, belly laughs melting into giggles.

“You save me from me, Cas, you know that?” Dean ask, his humor evaporating for a moment. He ran his fingers down Cas’ cheek and then a thumb over his swollen lip. “You make me better and I love that. Almost as much as I love you.”

Cas grabbed Dean’s hand and interlaced their fingers. “We make each other better, Dean. I love that. Almost as much as I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads-up, dear readers: This story is drawing to an end here soon and it is a good probability that there is only a couple chapters left. We want to thank you all again for joining us on this ride and are endlessly appreciative of all the kudos , comments and bookmarks we have received - you have made us feel so loved ^_^ We have had so much fun writing this story and hope that you have enjoyed the ride as much as we have! <3


	20. Chapter 20

Cas looked around the parking lot of Harvelle’s, tugging nervously at the hem of his dark red devil costume before readjusting the plastic horns on his head, again. He could hear the music thumping loudly as he reached forward and grabbed Dean’s hand, adjusting the falling horns with his other.

“Why are we wearing these again?” he asked dubiously. Castiel watched the hem of Dean’s fluffy white miniskirt bounce in time to his steps. Cas definitely loved this angel costume but wasn’t sure if he was okay with Dean wearing it in public again.

“It’s our anniversary,” Dean chuckled, “I figured you for a sap with this kind of stuff.” Dean stopped outside the door to the bar and pulled Cas against him, lips pressing hard and parting with a gulp for air.

“I am,” Castiel conceded, shaking his head against the pull of arousal. After a year, Dean knew exactly how to make his toes curl. “But,” he continued, “I don’t think I want anyone else getting a good look at my stuff. I’m not one to share you know.”

Dean let out a bark of laughter and pointed to the fresh bite mark on his chest, completely visible beneath the thin fabric of his fluffy white halter, and then the obvious hickey on his bend of his opposite shoulder. “Yeah, I think everyone knows I’m taken.”

Cas had the good sense to flush as they crossed into the loud bar, Halloween party already in full swing. Dean had talked Bobby and Ellen into throwing a bash this year, complete with decorations, themed food and a live band that promised karaoke after ten. Tonight was special and he wanted all of his family to be together. What better way to ensure that than to bring the party to them.

Ellen saw them first and just shook her head at the matching costumes, Cas in the red devil suite and Dean in his way-too-revealing angel dress. She figured there was no need to threaten Dean with a whoopin’ this year, he wouldn’t be able to hear it over the music anyway. The pair bumped into Bobby on their way to their usual table.

“Again?” Bobby asked, looking Dean over in mock disbelief. “Castiel, you need to keep that boy on a leash.”

Cas turned a defeated grimace to Bobby and nodded his agreement, then sighed out his reply, “I would, sir, but I fear he would enjoy that too much.”

They watched Bobby march away with words like ‘dammit son’ and ‘TMI’ trailing after him.

Dean’s mouth fell open and his eyes lit up with delight. He loved when Cas was snarky. “Did you just…”

“I did,” Cas replied smugly before leaning in and whispering against Dean’s ear, “Dean, you really should not stand with your mouth hanging open or I’ll be forced to put something in it.”

A blush burned across Dean's cheeks, highlighting his freckles, and he promptly snapped his mouth shut. But a smile quickly crept back up to his lips as he tugged Cas close against him.

Cas looked up at him, mirroring Dean's grin, and Dean felt that now familiar warmth bloom in his chest that he got whenever he even just glanced at him. It was the same feeling from that first night one year ago. Dean recognized now, that for as much as he had never thought he believed in love at first sight, it was exactly what he felt the first moment he laid eyes on Cas.

Dean canted his head forward, pressing his mouth to Cas', and felt Cas' arms twine around his back. But before the kiss could tumble them into something more heated, Sam's voice boomed over the already loud music.

"Don't tell me you lost _another_ bet, Dean!" he shouted with a wide smile, coming up beside the couple as they pulled back, clapping a hand down onto Dean's shoulder. He was dressed as “Dr. Sexy,” or so his white labcoat declared, with a toy stethoscope clasped to his neck.  

Dean rolled his eyes and huffed out a good-natured laugh. "Bitch," he said over the sound of the music.

"Jerk," came Sam's customary reply. He pulled Dean in for a tight hug then pushed his brother back before giving Cas a cryptically excited look and tugging him in for an embrace as well.

When they separated, Dean nodded over to Jess, her pink nurse costume riding a bit as she leaned against the bar, talking to Ellen. "So, what kind of deal with the devil did you have to make to finagle a night out alone with the missus?"

Sam took a moment to appreciate the view but then brought a hand up to rub over the back of his neck under his long hair and shrugged. "Jess finally found a babysitter that she approves of.” His overly masculine features took on a childish quality as he whipped out his phone to show off pictures. “You guys gotta see how big she is. I mean every night I get home and it’s like Mary’s grown a foot!”

Eager to oh and ah over his favorite niece, Dean pulled Castiel close so all three could see the chubby cheeks and blonde hair of the six month old. They let Sam gush like a proper new dad, sharing anecdotes about her babbles, mealtime messes and how wonderful she smelled. She had Sam’s colorful eyes and Jess blonde curls. She would have her Uncle Dean’s right hook if Dean had anything to say about it.

Cas was so engrossed in Sam’s pictures and stories of Mary that he didn’t even see that Meg sauntered up beside him until she threw an arm over his shoulder.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Clarence?” she asked loudly, pressing in to see.

Cas jumped slightly in surprise, then cast her a sideways glance. She stood at his side, squinting her eyes to see the picture Sam had pulled up on his phone of Mary with strained peas smeared all over her face, and Cas had to do a double-take.

“Are you wearing what I think you’re wearing?” he asked, looking her up and down, _mildly_ nonplussed, because it was Meg after all.

She pulled back and did a little twirl to show off her catholic school girl costume, replete with a plaid skirt, knee high socks, and pigtails. Smiling broadly, and maybe a little impishly, Meg pulled out the edges of her short skirt and did a curtsy, just as Balthazar walked right up behind her.

“What do you think?” she asked, her throaty voice carrying easily over the the music.

“Megan, you look positively stunning,” Balthazar said, bending forward over her shoulder so she could hear him.

Cas cringed back as Meg’s brown eyes flew open wide and then almost immediately narrowed into slits at the recognition of the voice behind her. She spun around so fast B hardly had a chance to jerk away, nearly catching a mouthful of dark chocolate hair.

“I thought Cas told you I wasn’t interested, _Balthazar_.” She slammed her hands down onto her hips and tapped a stiletto clad toe, awaiting B’s explanation.  

B held his hands up in surrender, an insanely charming grin spreading across his lips. “He most certainly has, my dear, but I see nothing wrong with admiring your beauty, even if it is from afar.” He let his eyes drift from her eyes to her toes and then back up, as if daring her to protest.

The small group of them, Sam and Dean included, waited with bated breath for Meg’s response. Cas was about to step forward to break the tension, when Meg finally cracked a smile. “Why don’t you go _far_ over there to that bar and get a girl drink?” she chuckled, then pointed in the direction of where Charlie was standing off to the side. Charlie, her red hair tied up in matching buns, smiled and waved, the sleeve of her Princess Leia costume falling to her elbow. “See that gorgeous redhead over there? She’ll tell you exactly what drink you should buy me.”

Balthazar nodded graciously and bowed. “Whatever the lady desires,” he purred.

He turned and headed toward the bar, but not before Meg gave him a playful swat on the ass. “Make sure you buy Charlie one too, got it?”

Cas watched in amusement as B shot her a blithe look and sauntered away, chuckling all the way to the bar. The group settled over two booths close to the small stage and ordered pitchers of beer to share, the alcohol flowing freely.

Jo made her last round of her tables and prepared to clock out and join the party. She stopped at the rowdy table she would share to grab the last few accessories for her cowgirl costume from Jess.

It was then that Gabriel arrived, hair slicked back and a large, black mustache plastered to his face. He leaned against one of the booths and raised an eyebrow at Jo, pulling her tray away from her and holding it up. “Can I interest you in the sausage, miss?”

“Seriously, Grandpa?” she asked simply and snatched her tray back and headed back to the kitchen. Laughing, the group watched Gabe watch her walk away, but fell into an immediate hush as he spoke again.

“That is one fine piece -” the words died as he noticed Sam and Dean standing at full height, arms crossed in a coordinated effort to intimidate, “um, of brilliant young woman that deserves all of my respect and admiration.”  They didn’t budge. “From afar, like way far.”

The booths roared again as, satisfied, the brothers took their seats, clicking their beers and nodding their approval at Gabe’s backtracking. Gabe took a seat in the second booth and Jess leaned over the top to ask about Anna.

“She stayed home to hand out candy,” he said, popping a Snickers mini into his mouth. “She loves kids in costume.”

Jess' eyes instantly lit up and she began to tell Gabe in detail about the clown costume she had put Mary in when they took her out for her very first trick or treating outing earlier that evening; Sam had been less than thrilled about the outfit choice.

Gabe chuckled heartily when Jess told him the reason and and he could hear Sam groan in the other booth. “Will you stop telling everyone I’m afraid of clowns?” Sam asked, chagrin ringing clear in his tone.

Dean’s voice could suddenly be heard over the noise in the bar, “Oh c’mon, Sammy, you know it’s true!”

Silence and then, “Okay, but she didn’t have to put the _baby_ in a clown costume, alright?”

Raucous laughter erupted again and Dean watched Jess slide back down in her seat beside Sam, a wide smile curving her lips. She snuggled in close to her husband and smacked a loud kiss to his cheek, love and pride so clear on her face. Joy expanded in Dean’s chest to see his whole family together and so happy and he shined a wide grin to Cas sitting next to him.

“You ready to go get some food? Bobby and Ellen have been working all day on the spread, which I’m sure Bobby will tell you all about.” He scooched out of the booth and, after righting his feathery skirt, extended a hand out to Cas.

Cas looked up, a grin lighting up his face and crinkling the corners of his eyes, and settled his hand in Dean’s. Dean tugged him to his feet, and after pressing a chaste but endlessly tender kiss to his lips, began leading them toward the long tables set against the far wall of the bar, topped with steaming trays of various types of delicious looking food set up buffet-style. But before they could even reach for their plates, the door to Harvelle’s blew open on a bitter gust of wind just as the band finished with their current song and said they’d be taking a quick break before the karaoke began.

Dean and Cas both glanced over to the door curiously to see who the newest guest to arrive would be, and were utterly stunned to see Luc step in from out of the cold. His blonde hair was wind-blown and wild and two bright splotches of red rode high on his cheeks from the chilly air. He shook the debris of dead leaves sprinkled from across his coat and scanned the dimly lit bar until he spotted Dean and Cas standing near the back.

Dean honestly did not expect Luc to show up when they had invited him to tonight’s party. It was true that Luc had done a lot since that fateful dinner almost a year ago to try to repair those bridges he had burned so blatantly, but it was a slow process and Dean could tell Cas was still very, very wary; he couldn’t really blame him. But inviting Luc to Harvelle’s had been Cas’ idea completely, taking a page straight from Dean’s book by stating that Luc was his family and family was important. The only reason Dean hadn’t expected Luc to show at all was because he had told them he’d be working a pretty strenuous case down at the courthouse and probably wouldn’t be able to make an appearance at their party.   

So it was no small surprise when Cas’ brother walked in. Luc stepped forward quickly, a tired and tentative smile pulling at his lips. Cas stiffened as Luc approached, a habit he had not been able to break, and Dean quickly brought his hand around Cas’ where it hung at his side.

Luc came to a stop before them, clasping his hands before himself, knowing better than to extend one for a shake; neither Dean nor Cas were ready for that yet. “I can’t stay long, Steve's waiting in the car, but I wanted to bring you this,” he said, reaching into his coat to bring out a long envelope. He handed it to Dean, then gave them both a nod, his gaze lingering hopefully on Cas for a moment, before turning and making his way back to the exit.

Cas and Dean both shared a glance and then Dean looked down at the envelope in his hand. He turned it over a couple times before he finally opened it. His eyes scrolled down the letter inside, his heart picking up speed with every word he read. It was a letter from Jacob’s wife:

_Dear Mr. Winchester,_

_Let me begin by expressing my most sincere gratitude. Without you, I would never have had the courage to leave Jacob. Via my attorney, I have enclosed a small monetary gift within this envelope as a small token of my thanks. I know it does not come close to making up for what you have been through, but it really is the least I can do, for all you did for me._

Dean unfolded the last bit of the paper with shaking hands to reveal a check for five thousand dollars. He heard Cas draw in a sharp intake of breath and felt him settle a hand down on his shoulder.

“Oh, Dean,” Cas whispered.

Dean could only nod and blink back the tears that began crowding his eyes.

"Did you know he about this?" Dean asked, as dumbstruck at the messenger as the gift.

Cas shook his head no, then nodded a yes and finally explained, "He asked me not to say. Luc is currently representing her in divorce proceedings. He's calling it his penance. I had no idea she'd do this. He swears that he really didn't know about your past with Jacob, that your name came up in conversation about me." He sighed, looking back to the check, "This is amazing, Dean."

Excitement overtook him for a moment and Dean grabbed Cas in a bear hug, sweeping him off of his feet. "This is great!" he exclaimed, setting Cas down and grabbing his shoulders. "We can totally put this towards..." Dean hesitated and gave Cas a hard once over, his eyes gleaming with emotion for a moment before continuing. "We can put this towards that screened in patio you want."

He rubbed Castiel's shoulder, leaned in for a kiss and then lead them back to the buffet, Cas protesting the rush to renovate their new home. They were still unpacking boxes, Dean's boxes, so the porch could wait.

When they returned to the booths, Jo had joined them, soda in hand, and was chattering away about karaoke. She was taking the liberty of putting all of their names in, some several times, and they were deciding song selections.

"I got something special planned you, buddy," Dean snickered, and bumped his hip against Cas', making him stumble.

"Leave the laps dancing to private time, big boy," Meg protested. Cas blushed again and studied a spot on the table. He missed the wink that passed between Sam and Dean. Karaoke was going to be great.

When the band returned to the stage, the teleprompters had been set at the edge and a large video screen was pulled down on one side. 'Jo Harvelle' and 'I Love Rock n' Roll' were displayed in large letters and a name they didn't recognize was scrolling along the bottom. The whole bar erupted as the band started a generic intro and then explained the event.

Jo sauntered to the stage and grabbed the mic, flipping her long hair and dancing to the opening guitar lick. She rocked as hard as Joan Jett, complete with rolling hips and a kick to the audience. The crowd was screaming for more when she took her bow.

The whole party sang along to the next performer, the couples sharing sweet kisses and long looks as Bryan Adams' 'Everything I Do' filled the bar. The fifth performer turned out to be a duo as Sam and Dean belted out Bon Jovi's 'Wanted' just like they did as kids. They took turns at air guitar, leaving Jess and Cas both screamed like groupies, each showing appreciation in the form of wet kisses and obvious groping when their boys jumped down from the stage.

Meg was eventually called and warbled her way through 'I Like Candy', which garnered several phone numbers and a sloppy kiss from Charlie. Cas made his way to the stage, held the mic in a death grip and mumbled the beginning of 'Pour Some Sugar.' Dean forced his way to the front of the audience and sang along with him, his face easing Cas' nerves. By the last chorus, Castiel was a swaggering peacock, running his hands through his hair and popping his hips to the beat.

"I got a souvenir," Cas proclaimed, hopping off of the stage and proudly holding out a pair of pink lace panties that one of his fans from the audience had thrown at him as he sang. He was instantly bent over with belly laughs as Dean balled them up and tossed them in the nearest trash can.

"I'm heading to the men's room," Cas said and started away, but stopped when Dean’s hand found his.

"Well, hurry back," Dean's brow creased and he gestured to the screen, "I'm next." Cas nodded and made his way through the crowd to the restroom. He hurried his way through his business and checked his reflection in the mirror.

The first few melancholy bars of a now familiar song started as Cas washed his hands.

_My lover's got humour_   
_She's the giggle at a funeral_   
_Knows everybody's disapproval_   
_I should've worshiped her sooner_   
  


He stepped out of the restroom to see Dean on stage, his eyes closed and arms outstretched to the crowd as the music swelled through the chorus.

_Take me to church_   
_I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies_   
_I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife_   
_Offer me that deathless death_   
_Good God, let me give you my life_

Hearing those lyrics last fall had brought a flood of regret for so many wasted years chasing after nonexistent approval, for only a deathless death to be offered by his father. But Dean had spent the last year changing his view on what that shrine meant. He would gladly spend the rest of his days in a new church worshipping at the shrine that was Dean.

Cas had inched his way to front of the stage as Dean sang of pagans and goddesses and the starving faithful. He stopped moving forward when the music died and Dean lowered the mic to the stage, a hush making its way through the crowd. He watched as Dean took a step down and the crowd parted for them. He spoke the final verse aloud, reaching his hand out to pull Cas from the audience.

"No masters or kings, Castiel, when the ritual begins. There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin. In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene," His voice filled the quiet bar as he sang the line, emotion rounding out the sounds as he fell down to one knee. "Only then I am Human. Only then I am Clean."

Dean held his free hand out to Sam, his heartbeating out a wildly uneven staccato, as a small black ring box was placed in his palm. He opened the box with shaking hands and raised it up to Cas. "Make me clean, Cas, please."

A simple silver band gleamed up at Cas from the soft black velvet lining the box and Cas felt his breath lodge painfully in his chest. The love he held for Dean, that beautiful depthless love, welled up inside him and all he could say was "Amen."

Dean blinked up at him from where he knelt on the floor, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Is that a yes?"

Cas couldn't hold back the tears crowding his eyes any longer and he nodded, reaching down to tug Dean to his feet. He drew him in for a deep kiss then pulled back, resting his forehead against Dean's. "Of course it's a yes. It will always be a yes. Forever and forever, Dean."

The grin Dean gave him then was more dazzling than any Cas had ever seen and it absolutely melted his heart. The band started Kool and the Gang’s ‘Celebrate’ as Dean slipped the ring on Cas' left hand amid the cheers and applause of all their friends and family. Cas laughed, happy tears streaming down his cheeks, and pulled Dean back in for another kiss, feeling more accepted and loved than he'd ever been before.

“I’m getting married, ya’ll!” Dean cried out to the crowd, holding Cas’ hand up like a prizefighter at the end of a boxing match. “He said yes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we have a wedding to plan! Yay!!! ^_^


	21. Epilogue

A warm puff of spring air breezed through the open window in Castiel's room, rustling the curtains in a gentle sway as he stood before the full length mirror beside the bed. He sighed as he stared at himself, undoing the knot of the dark blue tie around his neck for what seemed like the thousandth time that morning. It wasn't just the fact that he was getting married in less than three hours that filled him with a shaking anticipation, it was the fact that he'd be proclaiming to the world that he was Dean's and Dean was his. Cas had found the one his heart had longed for and he could not wait any longer to make it all official before their friends and family. All that, combined with the night he'd spent away from Dean, the first they'd had since they had started dating, made Cas nearly frantic with the need to see him.

He pulled in a deep, albeit unsteady breath, and let it out slowly before bringing his hands up to his tie again. Cas looked to the doorway, suddenly feeling like he was being watched, and saw Meg propped against the jamb, her arms folded across her chest and amusement sparking brightly in her eyes.

"Need some help there, Clarence?" she asked, stepping farther into the room before he could even reply.

Cas looked down at her as she came to a stop in front of him, a grateful smile curving his mouth. "Thank you, " he said with a soft earnestness when she reached up to knot his tie.

“Why do you even bother?” Meg asked, chuckling low in her throat. She loved this tick of his, the outward sign of his inward turmoil, because it was one she could fix.

“Spill,” she said as she worked, “Why are you flippin’ out?”

“Why are you so short,” he asked, deflecting her question. When she stomped on his foot, he continued, “I’m not flipping out,” he denied, air quotes at the ready. She smacked those down as well then stepped back to check her handiwork.

“You are a terrible liar,” she said, running her hands over his shoulders to smooth his light grey vest, then adjusted his boutonniere before turning to admire their almost matching reflections in the mirror; Meg’s tie was yellow instead of bridegroom blue. He smiled finally knowing she would persist until he let her in.

“It’s not bad,” he started, “I just miss him and this is just a big step we’re taking. I’m going to be Mr. Castiel Winchester. It’s all too wonderful to be true, Meg. The other shoe will drop eventually, right?” He turned away from the mirror to look at her face not her reflection. He knew everything would be fine, but hearing it from Meg, in her uniquely loving fashion, would help ease his mind.

“You’re stupid,” she finally said. “It’s been less than twenty-four hours since you last saw him. Look, you love him, he loves you. He’s marrying you so shut up and get with the program.” Her overly sweet smile rounded out her face and her eyes sparkled.

He hugged her close then, hard and with gusto, “Thanks, Meg.”

“Whatever,” she quipped pushing him away. “Seriously, enough with the hugging. That’s what the dumbass is for.”

*****

“What do you mean it won’t be there by four?” Dean screamed into his phone. Dressed in his light grey vest and slacks, he paced Bobby’s kitchen and fought with the delivery company.

“Look, Mr. Winchester,” the attendant replied sharply, “We don’t usually deliver on Saturdays and are making a huge exception for you.”

“I know that,” Dean said, rolling his eyes at the invisible nuisance. “I paid extra to get this delivered and you guys were already expensive. If it’s not there on time, I will cancel our contract. You will not deliver another one for my shop ever.” Dean pressed ‘end’ then tried to choke the attendant by choking his phone.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked, walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge. He was just about ready as well, his yellow tie and boutonniere were already in place but he was walking around without shoes.

“I really miss slamming down the phone, ya know,” Dean asked tossing his phone on the table and continued through clenched teeth, “like just smashing it down because you can.” He imitated the motion, pounding his fist into his palm.

“Dude, you gotta chill,” Sam laughed and handed Dean a beer.

“It’s not even noon yet, Sammy,” Dean balked at the open bottle but took a swig anyway.

“I know,” Sam tossed back his beer, chuckling, “but if you don’t relax, you’re gonna have a heart attack and I am not explaining that to Cas. Seriously, what’s the problem?”

Dean ran a calming hand down his face and then tilted his head back, the memory of Cas’ surprise visit to the shop playing itself out in his head. A smack to his arm brought him back and Sam’s knitted eyebrows let him know that he was waiting for an answer.

“You know that blue muscle I’ve been working on?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, you’ve been working on the monster since like forever,” Sam leaned against the counter opposite him and waited.

“Well, I finished it last month,” Dean’s eyes lit up as he spoke, “dude, it sounds like a dream and I got it painted blue and tan.” Dean hesitated and blushed here, “it matches Cas’ eyes and that stupid coat he won’t get rid of. I'm giving it to him for a wedding present."

“That’s fantastic,” Sam was ecstatic too now, but then frowned when Dean’s phone conversation fell into place. “It’s gonna be late? Hell no. We’ll get it to the reception if I gotta tow it there myself. What’s the number to the delivery company?”

Sam pulled out his phone and started typing out a text message, adding the info from Dean. “You said Luc’s been looking for a way to help with the wedding, right, but Cas didn't have anything for him? How about we sic the meanest prosecutor in the state on the delivery company and see what he can do?”

“That’s awesome!” Dean grabbed Sam in a bear hug then stood back, sincerity ringing in his voice as he added, “Thanks, man. I just want it to be perfect, ya know?”

Sam stood before Dean, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “I get it. I felt the same way at my wedding, remember? I almost threw up in the Impala.” Dean nodded and let out a nervous smile, the memory making him green. “But as long as you’re there for Cas, it will be perfect. Hell, I think he loves you more than I do.”

“No way,” Dean argued, a true grin lighting up his face, “No one loves me more than my baby brother.”

“He actually buys you black liquorish. He’s totally head over heels.”

Dean chuckled thoughtfully, glancing down to the bottle in his hand. "Well, that feeling's definitely mutual."

Sam laughed outright, clapping Dean on the back. "Wow! You really could have fooled me, what with this wedding happening in less than, what," he made a show of looking down at his watch, "three hours?"

A giddy and nervous rush of anticipation flooded through Dean's chest. "That's it?" he cried, grabbing up his phone from the table to confirm the time. "Jesus Christ, Sammy, get your damn shoes on! We need to leave in like five freakin' minutes."

"Dude, calm down," Sam said, "We've still got some time."

Dean leveled a glare at Sam that had him hightailing it to the living room where he had stashed his socks and shoes without another word.

"What in the damn hell is all the commotion out here?" Bobby barked, suddenly appearing from the hallway that lead back to the bedrooms. He was buttoning up his grey vest as he walked forward, his customary frown firmly in place. "Don't you idjit's know weddings are s'posed to be _happy_ occasions?"

Dean stepped up to Bobby, forcing himself to calm down, and reached out to straighten Bobby's canary yellow tie. "I am happy!" he said, a genuine smile ticking up the corner of his mouth. "But I'll be _much_ happier when I get to see Cas walking down that aisle toward me."

Bobby's frown softened and he brought a hand up, halting Dean's frantic fingers as they tried to suss out perfection from Bobby's already immaculate suit. Dean looked up at him, brows drawn together, eyes nervous and excited, as Bobby patted his cheek in the way he had done since Dean was just a boy. "Then let's get our asses out that door," he chuckled.

***********

The chairs facing the gazebo had been set up early that morning and Jo and Ellen spent a chunk of time decorating in the canary yellow and royal blue Cas and Dean had picked out. Each chair had a large two-tone bow tied to the back and blue and yellow bunting and ribbon was draped along the top of the gazebo, the cool spring breeze pulling the loose strands back and forth as if they were dancing a waltz. The midmorning light gave the material a shine and Ellen was sure the entire area would glow in the early afternoon sun.

Gabriel would be presiding over the ceremony and he took his time setting up his makeshift altar at the foot of the gazebo steps. He draped a white cloth first, followed by yellow and blue, then spread his book, candles and notes along the tabletop. He was nervous and excited, but determined to do them both proud. The last piece he placed was the ornate Unity Candle, a three wick beacon with ribbons of color carved from the colorful wax. He made this the centerpiece of his table and its symbolism the centerpiece of his service.

He glanced up as a few soft notes of music began playing from speakers beside the gazebo that one of the ushers had set up and stood quietly as Dean and Cas’ invited guests began walking forward across the long expanse of grass in the secluded park area to find their seats. He smiled at the close friends and family members as they sat and murmured happily about how beautifully the space was decorated. And then, when Ellen gave him the signal from around a tall row of hedges, he nodded toward the usher beside him to change the music to the processional song Dean and Cas had selected and motioned for the crowd to stand.

All the guests turned in anticipation to watch as the wedding party made their way across the lawn. Jess and Mary were the first to come around the hedge. Both were wearing bright yellow sundresses with a deep blue sash around the waist. With Jess’ help, Mary was tossing out yellow rose petals from a small basket she held, the guests murmuring encouragement to the little one as they passed.

Sam and Meg, the best men, were the second group to come down the aisle, Sam in his light grey vest and slacks with a yellow tie, and Meg in a nearly identical suit, a light grey skirt in exchange for slacks. She had her arm looped in the crook of Sam’s elbow and smiled a sideways grin as they walked the space between the chairs, shooting a wink at Charlie as they passed her chair.

The two separated once they reached the gazebo, one on each side and waited as Dean and Bobby came around the corner. They walked side by side, Dean beaming with excitement as they advanced toward the altar Gabe had set up. Bobby gave Dean a tight embrace then stood off to the side by Sam. Dean turned back toward the grass aisle, his heart thumping wildly as he awaited Castiel’s appearance.

And then there he was, stepping around the vibrant green wall of foliage with Balthazar at his side. The very sight of him, with sunlight settling around and through the strands of his dark hair like a ethereal halo, with his eyes bluer than they’d ever been and contrasting so beautifully with his azure tie, with his lips curving into a trembling and joyous smile, absolutely stole Dean’s breath. The entire park fell away, every single person standing beside him and sitting before him until there was Cas, _only Cas_ , and Dean had to consciously focus on dragging in a shaky gasp as Cas walked closer, so as to not pass out from lack of oxygen.

Cas’ smile broadened the closer he got and Dean swore he could not take much more of this exquisite torture; he so badly wanted to pull Cas into his arms and press his mouth to those perfect lips. But rational thought won out, barely, and he remained standing at the altar but gestured for Cas to hurry, letting out a stuttering breath when he finally came to a stop at the end of the petal-strewn aisle.

Sam was right, it was going to be perfect. The audience burst into giggles as Dean pulled Cas in for a kiss, his patience running out. A cough from Gabriel interrupted them, “Dean-o, that part comes at the end.” Each blushing, they parted but held hands as Gabriel addressed the wedding party and then the guests.

“I am Gabriel Novak and I will be your Deputy Commissioner of Marriages today. Please fasten your seatbelts and keep your hands and arms inside the ride at all times.” This garnered quiet laughter from the gathering but he continued.

“These crazy kids did not come get here on their own, nope. No family is perfect, but we love and support each other through all of our highs and lows. Today is a great high, so I ask, who will represent Dean Winchester?”

Bobby stepped forward again. “I represent Dean,” he answered.

Gabriel’s easy smile faded and he turned serious eyes on Bobby, “Will you and your family take Castiel as one of your own?”

Bobby shone a warm smile on Cas and answered gruffly, “Of course we will.” Cas and Dean both chuckled as Bobby stepped back to his place.

Gabe spoke to the crowd again, “Who will represent Castiel Novak?”

It was Balthazar who stepped forward next, his tantalizing smile ever present. “I represent Castiel.”

Gabriel’s and Balthazar shared a silent moment, each studying the other before Gabe spoke, “Will you and your family take Dean as one of your own?”

“We will treat him better than we have treated our own.” A tear sparkled in B’s eye as he spoke, his gaze centering on Castiel and then on Dean.

And like a gameshow host, Gabe tossed his hands in the air, "May the blessing of their marriage extend throughout your families forever. Lets get this show on the road!"

Gabe grabbed his book and notes, motioned for the guests to sit, and began his speech, _“The Morgan Hammond_ defines love as ‘a widespread incurable disease which is known to affect the mind and sometimes the body. Symptoms may include: Affected judgment, lightheadedness, eye-watering, chest pains, and increased need to be with the person who infected you. It is known to be highly contagious and can be deadly.’

If you’ve spent _any_ time with these two then you know all of this is true. Affected judgment? Dean tried to come to dinner with my family; he was nuts. And the increased need to be with the person? When was the last time you saw Casserole without Dean-o in tow? Never!

But I’m really okay with all that. I am, because these two nutjobs have taught me a lesson about life and love. That lesson is that, if you really love someone, you can ride to hell and back. Together. They have been a united front from day one and I know I’m right when I say that they will _continue_ to be united until day one million and one.”

Cas smiled at Dean, blinking back the tears that began crowding his eyes, and gave his hands a squeeze. Dean returned the smile with one of his own, effectively melting Cas' heart on the spot.

"Okay," Gabe said, bringing Cas and Dean's attention back. "Now, let's get down to these vows."

Dean and Cas both nodded, Dean standing a little taller when Gabe settled a hand on his shoulder. “Repeat after me, Dean."

And Dean did, speaking the words from deep within his soul, never breaking his gaze from Cas for even one second. "I, Dean, take you Castiel to be my husband, to have and to hold you, to honor you, to treasure you, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy, in the good times and the bad, and to love and cherish you _always._ I promise you this from the bottom of my heart, for all the days of my life."

Cas found he couldn't stop the tears he'd been holding back and felt one slip warmly down his cheek. Dean brought a hand up, brushing away the moisture with the pad of his thumb, his chin wobbling slightly as he did it.

And then it was Cas' turn to repeat the words. He cleared his throat and said them with all the sincerity he felt in his heart. His voice broke over the last word and then there was a gentle quiet that descended, punctuated by sniffles from nearly everyone present, even Bobby.

The rings were exchanged next handed over by Sam and then Meg, followed by the lighting of the unity candle, and then Gabe was pronouncing them married. It all seemed to go by in a blur and Cas' head was spinning by the time Gabe stretched his arms up, declaring, "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and husband!"

Gabe jabbed Dean with his elbow and stage-whispered, " _Now_ you can kiss him."

The crowd erupted in cheering and applause as Dean tugged Cas in close and pressed a soul searing kiss to his lips. Cas' knees buckled weakly, but Dean was there to hold him up.

Dean would _always_ be there to hold him up.

 

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they both lived happily ever after!!! <3  
> We both wanted to extend a big THANK YOU to all of you who have read, commented on, kudoed and bookmarked this story! We are amazed at the outpouring of support and love we received as we wrote this and wanted to let you all know we could not have done it without you! This whole thing started as a fun tumblr prompt that neither of us imagined would see the light of day, but we're so happy it did!  
> Feel free to contact us on tumblr at http://lopsided-whiskey-grin.tumblr.com/ and http://why-yes-i-do-like-that-show.tumblr.com/ if you ever wanna say hi or anything! We're really friendly people, we swear! ^_^ Thanks again!  
> Much love,  
> Lopsided_Whiskey_Grin & AlmostSuperWhoFan


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